


A Year in the Life (A Cooking with Gas Story)

by WinJennster



Series: Cooking with Gas 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, M/M, More Characters added as story progresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 42,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/pseuds/WinJennster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are newlyweds, and this is their first year of marriage. (Set in the Cooking with Gas 'verse)<br/>Written for the 30 Day OTP Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> No way in hell am I gonna post one of these every day, but you will get your 30 tasty timestamps, set within Cas and Dean's first year of marriage.

_November 20, 2014_

"So things have been going well then?"

"Yup," Dean replies with a smile, "things have been going great!"

Dr. Pamela Barnes smiles at him, and makes a notation on her notepad. "And the nightmares?"

Dean grimaces. "Yeah, I still get them once in a while, but not all the time. Not like it was before."

"That's good. How often would you say you have one?"

"About once a week. But those are just the minor ones. I only get the really bad ones once or twice a month, and Cas is so good at detecting them that it doesn't usually get very far before he wakes me up."

"That's good. Anything unusual about the dreams?" She shifts in the chair, and Dean takes a moment to admire her tight black AC/DC tank top. He guesses some people would find Pamela unprofessional, with her rock wear, heavy eyeliner, torn jeans, tattoos, and give 'em hell attitude and foul mouth, but truth be told, Dean doesn't think Cas could have found him a better fit for a therapist. Pamela made him feel at ease right from day one. The fact that she's a prior-service Marine doesn't hurt either.

"Well, the last really bad one I had, Cas was in New York, and instead of dreaming about Andy, I, I…" he falters, and Pamela stays quiet, waiting for him to continue. It's one of the million and one things about her that make her amazing. She knows when to not prod him, when to sit back and let him get his thoughts together. It's almost like she's psychic. "Anyway, I um, I dreamt about Cas. I dreamt it was Cas burning in the Humvee. Couldn't go back to sleep at all that night."

Pamela frowns. "Has that happened before? And Cas was in New York three weeks ago. Why didn't you tell me then?"

"I've never dreamt about Cas that way before and I didn't tell you because…hell, I don't know."

"It's ok. Listen, it doesn't mean anything bad. It's just that Cas is everything to you, and you are newlyweds after all, so it's really no wonder that he would be the person you're thinking of the most. And because you are thinking about him all the time, he just happened to replace Andy in your dream. It doesn't mean anything will happen to Cas, and it doesn't mean you're dishonoring Andy's memory."

Dean nods. Somehow, she always knows exactly what to say.

"You're doing great, by the way. We've been seeing each other for almost a year and a half, twice a week at first, then once a week, then biweekly. I think you're doing well enough now that we can cut it back to once a month. I'm proud of you Dean, you've come a long, long way, and you should be proud of yourself as well."

He opened his mouth to tell her the credit should go to Cas, but she cut him off.

"And don't give me a bunch of shit about how all the credit goes to Cas, because it was _you_ who came to the appointments, it was _you_ that took the meds which you no longer need, because _you_ worked on fixing yourself. Don't get me wrong, having someone like Cas in your corner makes this process damn easier, but hell if I'll sit here and let you give away all your hard work. _You_ need to be fuckin' proud of yourself, Dean, because _you_ did this. You fixed yourself."

Dean blushes and stares at the floor. He never was that good at taking compliments.

"Now get out of here, and I'll see you in a month, ok?"

"Ok."

He stands, and she hugs him, and pushes him out the door. "And kiss that gorgeous husband of yours for me!"

* * *

He's late getting to Lawrence High for Ben's concert, and Dean's cursing up a blue streak as he trawls the parking lot looking for a spot. He finds Cas's Corvette taking up almost three spots and he grins.

Cas saved him a spot.

Dean puts the Impala in park, and quickly moves the Vette and pulls in next to it. He'll have to thank Cas later for being the most brilliant husband on the face of the Earth.

Husband.

That word still seems kind of weird on Dean's tongue. They've been married for two months and two days, and it still feels so new.

The orchestra is already on it's first number when he gets into the auditorium, and it's dark, he can't really see Cas, or Lisa and Vic for that matter. He can see Ben, sitting with the other trumpeters in the brass section, his shiny trumpet reflecting the stage lights.

Walking slowly down the aisle, Dean jumps a mile when Cas reaches out and grabs his sleeve, but recovers quickly and slides into the seat next to him.

"Did I miss his solo?"

"No. They just started."

Dean finally relaxes, and smiles over at Lisa and Vic.

The orchestra finishes their current number, and the conductor stands. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd now like to introduce Benjamin Winchester, who's going to play a trumpet solo."

Ben stands with a grin, finds Dean's eyes, and begins to play. The notes are familiar, and Dean feels a bit choked up as Ben starts playing _La Vie en Rose._

Louis Armstrong's got nothing on his boy, as Ben plays a perfect jazz trumpet, and he feels Cas take his hand, intertwining their fingers.

"I love you," Cas whispers in the dark.

Dean smiles. "I love you too, Cas."

Ben plays on, and they hold hands in the dark, happy and in love.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so here's one more. That doesn't mean there'll be one tomorrow. LOL

_November 26,2014_

There was a loud groan from the den, and Castiel smiled at his husband, sprawled out on the chocolate leather couch.

"Why didja have to make so much pie?" Dean whined. "My stomach is going to explode!" He groaned again and rolled onto his side, hands clenched over his stomach.

"No one said you had to eat so much," Castiel said drily. "Not my fault you had multiple slices."

"But it was so good. And you know how I feel about pie."

"Yes, I do. But two pieces of pumpkin, one of apple, and three of the pecan was bound to hurt. You realize, with all of those slices, you ate almost an entire pie by yourself. Not to mention the three plates of food you had at dinner."

"It's Thanksgiving! Overeating is what it's all about!"

"It's actually about giving thanks for all the good things in your life."

"Well, then, I'm giving thanks for a husband that can make awesome pie."

Castiel chuckled as he put the last dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. He wiped the counters down, and put the last of the food away, shoving what was left of the pie all the way to the back of the fridge in a half-assed attempt to prevent Dean from further indulging himself. Shutting off the kitchen lights, he walked into the den, finding Dean with his eyes at half mast, staring blankly at the Cowboys game on the big screen, his grey Led Zeppelin tee rucked up around his rib cage.

"Scoot over," Castiel told him. Dean didn't move. "Come on, give me some room."

"Can't move," Dean mumbled. "Food…coma…imminent!"

"Move or I'll tickle you."

"Tickle me, and I'll probably hurl."

Castiel smirked and bent over, poking Dean's exposed stomach with his fingertips. "Look at your belly. You look pregnant."

Dean looked up at him with the most pathetic expression imaginable. "Dude. I really did eat too much. It hurts."

"Move over then. Let me lay behind you, and I'll rub your belly."

Scooting to the edge of the couch, Dean made room for Castiel to climb in. Settling down behind Dean, he pulled the other man's back against his chest, reaching forward to spread his hand over Dean's distended belly, gently rubbing in circles, Dean making contented little hums.

"Is that better my love?" Castiel whispered in his ear.

"Oh god, yes," Dean purred, relaxing back into Castiel's arms.

The den was dark, the only light in the room coming from the big screen, and it was nice and quiet now, a far cry from the rowdy Winchester family dinner held earlier in the evening. Dean was warm and pliant in his arms, his breathing slow and deep and even.

He rolled over, pressing his chest against Castiel's, his eyes closed.

"Dean, we should go to bed."

Dean shook his head and wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist. "Nope. I'm good," he said drowsily, and a moment later he was gone.

Reaching up and pulling the fleece throw off the back of the couch, Castiel covered them up and snuggled into Dean, pulling him as close as possible.

There was no better place to be than cuddled up with his gorgeous husband on Thanksgiving night.


	3. Gaming or Watching a Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In chapter 26 of Cooking with Gas, I originally had Jess still pregnant at the wedding. That was my fault, and have since adjusted it, thanks to an awesome reader who caught that mistake and brought it to my attention. So the Mari mentioned here? Sam and Jess's daughter, who's almost 2. She's named for Mary Winchester.

_December 24, 2014_

Dean very carefully folded a tiny hot pink Metallica onesie and placed it in a gift box on top of a tiny, artfully ripped pair of black jeans. There were also hot pink and black checked socks in the box. He folded the pale pink tissue over the clothes and slipped the lid of the box on. He then deftly covered the box in Santa-hat wearing Hello Kitty paper and added it to the already insanely large stack of Hello Kittyed boxes under the tree.

Cas walked into the room, his own arms full of boxes wrapped in more traditional paper, red and green plaid and red with gold reindeers, and regarded the stack under the tree.

"There's nowhere to put your presents, Dean."

"Just shove 'em in there somewhere," he replied, tongue stuck out the side of his mouth in concentration as he negotiated the confusing task of wrapping an unwieldy oddly angled package containing a noisy toy steering wheel.

"Dean, do you think you may have purchased one too many presents for Mari?"

"No. I actually left a few items I wanted to get her."

Cas sighed. "Who are all these Transformers wrapped gifts for?" That stack was almost as large as the Hello Kitty pile.

"Ben."

"Why Transformers? Your son is seventeen and going to college in the fall."

Dean shrugs. "It's just our thing, I guess."

He watches as Cas looks at another large stack of boxes and packages with girly Christmas paper on them. Cas reads the names on the boxes and his eyes widen in surprise.

"These are all for Rachel and Sarah?"

"Yeah. I didn't want them to feel left out, since they're going to be here and all. It's awesome that both our families will be here tomorrow." Dean puts a sparkly pink bow on the last of Mari's presents, a little box containing a tiny pair of sparkly hot pink Chucks that will look great with his almost two-year-old niece's new Metallica outfit.

"You didn't have to do this Dean."

"I know."

Cas smiles. "You are remarkable. And wonderful. You know that right?"

Dean feels his cheeks heat, and he stands to move the rest of Mari's boxes over to the already large stack. Cas wraps his arms around his waist and presses his chest against Dean's back.

"Our first married Christmas," he breathes in Dean's ear, "I love you."

"I love _you_ ," Dean smiled as he turned and kissed him.

"So is this it? Any more to wrap or are we done?"

"We're done and thank god, 'cause I have had enough!" Dean started packing up the wrappings and tape spread all over the den.

"Let's clean up, then we'll put on a movie and eat some goodies, ok?"

Dean nodded happily. "That sounds like a great plan!"

Half an hour later, there's a fire dancing merrily in the fireplace, and Dean and Cas are wrapped together on the couch, a warm blanket tossed over them. Dean is eating his way through a plate of Cas's amazing cookies while his husband flips through the channels looking for a Christmas movie.

" _White Christmas_?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because the part with the General when all his guys show up to surprise him? Makes me cry. You know how I get about Army shit."

"Ok. How about _A Christmas Story_?"

"Nope."

"Why not? I know you love this one!"

"I do. But TNT runs it for twenty-four hours and I can't watch it without Ben, Sam and Adam. It's our thing. Tomorrow night after dinner."

" _Scrooged_?"

"No."

" _Home Alone_?"

"No."

" _A Wonderful Life_?"

"No…ok." Dammit. Dean loves this movie but it gets him every time. He's usually fine until the very end, when George decides life is worth living, and even though he knows things will be tough, it's worth it, and somehow he'll get through. Then everyone he knows and loves shows up with money to help him and Mary, and his brother comes home from the war and…well it just gets to Dean.

He knows how it feels to have your family and friends love you like that.

And he feels his eyes well just thinking about it.

Cas hands him a glass of eggnog, and Dean takes a sip, and snuggles in.

True, he's a big tough dude, and he's not girly, but there are few things in this world that feel better than being pressed tightly against Cas's side, his husband's arm holding him close.

On the big screen, George and Mary are walking home from the dance, staring up at the moon, and George offers to lasso it for her.

He'd do the same for Cas.

As the movie plays on, he gets sleepier and sleepier, snuggled up with his husband on Christmas Eve, comfortable, and content, and happy.

And that's the best Christmas present he could ask for.

Cas leans over and kisses his forehead, and Dean drifts off, his dreams sweet and peaceful.


	4. On A Date

_February 14, 2015_

_New York, New York_

Castiel smiled across the table at Dean as a waiter filled his wine glass. Valentine's Day had fallen on a Saturday, and Castiel had business in New York, so they were spending their first married Valentine's Day in the city, with a beautiful Central Park view room at the Waldorf, and now they were enjoying dinner together at their favorite New York restaurant, Blue Heaven Steakhouse.

He was busy admiring his husband's black pinstripe suit, black shirt, and hot pink tie, and musing how his humble mechanic from Kansas managed to look like a supermodel in everything he put on, when Gabe came out of the back and plopped down on the bench next to Dean, tossing an arm over his shoulder.

"What's up boys? All the places in NY for romantic dinners and you pick my lil old joint?"

"Hey, man, what I can I say? Cas and I are creatures of habit!"

"Well, I'm glad to have you. Don't even think about asking for the check, you guys are on the house!"

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to bro. Consider it my gift to you. It's your first married Valentine's after all. And you are such adorable newlyweds. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen. Just come back and holler at me before you take off."

"Of course, Gabe. And thank you for dinner."

"Anytime." He grabbed Dean again and gave him a big, exaggerated kiss on the cheek, then did the same to Castiel. "Happy V-D!"

"He's nuts," Dean laughed as Gabe headed back to the kitchen.

"He is indeed."

"Nice of him to offer us dinner."

"Gabe's always been very generous. He can be extraordinarily silly, and you never know when he's going to get you with one of his signature practical jokes, but he's a good brother and I wouldn't be where I am now without him and Anna."

"That's awesome."

"Yes, it is." Castiel reached across the table and took Dean's hand. "Now where were we?"

Dean beamed at him over his wine glass. "Happy Valentine's Day. I love you."

"As I you, my love."

They finished their dinner, popped in to say goodnight to Gabe, then hailed a cab back to the hotel.

His husband was definitely buzzing, as Dean practically crawled into his lap and was clumsily pulling at Castiel's red silk tie, his mouth busy molesting his neck.

They barely made it back to the room, Castiel throwing a wad of bills at the cabbie, and judging by the man's extremely happy honking, it was far more than it needed to be, and the minute they're through the door, Dean is slamming him into the wall, yanking at his suit jacket and pushing his leg between Castiel's thighs.

"Want you," he growled, hands working on Castiel's buckle. "Now."

Castiel smiled. Dean was taking control, and he loved it. He loved it when Dean tossed him on the bed, he loved it when Dean owned him with his mouth and his hands, and he loved it when Dean fucked him into the mattress.

After, they lay wrapped in each other's arms, Dean in that same spot he's loved since day one, face hidden in Castiel's neck.

"So, good first Valentine's?" Castiel asked, smoothing his hand over Dean's spine.

"Perfect."

"Good. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Castiel flipped Dean onto his back, and smiled down at the other man. "Ready for round two?"

Dean grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. "Oh hell, yeah," he purred, "Best Valentine's Day  _ever!_ "

Castiel couldn't agree more.

 


	5. Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorty, but there's more to come.

_April 19, 2015_

 

The minute he walked into his house, Dean caught a whiff of garlic and smiled.

Cas was in the kitchen, a big smile lighting his face as he caught sight of Dean and the roses he was holding.

“For me?”

“Yup,” Dean said with a grin, a huge smile on his face, “Happy Anniversary.”

Taking the roses from him, Cas smiled and leaned in for a kiss. “Happy anniversary to you as well, my love.”

It had been two years since Cas first showed up on his doorstep to film _A Little Taste of Heaven_ , and a year since they’d gotten engaged. As was apparently becoming tradition, Cas had all the elements necessary to make the meal they’d made that first day laying on the counter.

And a few minutes later, he was standing behind Dean, hands over his, recreating the first time he’d shown him how to properly mince garlic.

“See how much better that works?” he purred into Dean’s ear.

“You know how completely off balance you threw me when you did that the first time?”

“Yes. And that was the plan,” Cas whispered as he licked a little trail down Dean’s neck. “You have any idea how hot you looked, blushing and flustered, no idea how to handle what I was doing to you? Every move I made was calculated. I was intent on seducing you, Mr. Winchester.”

“Well, it worked,” Dean grinned, as he set down the knife and twisted in Cas’s arms, “hell, it’s still working.”  Their lips met, sweet and soft, Cas tasting of berries and a hint of wine as he licked across Dean’s lips.

Dean hummed in contentment, letting his husband take the lead. Cas grabbed his hips and pulled him in tight, his tongue sweeping into Dean’s mouth, tangling with his own. Dean wrapped a hand around Cas’s neck, pushing back with his own tongue, arousal pooling in his belly.

“Shit, Cas, are we gonna make dinner?” Dean gasped, when Cas dropped his head to attack his neck, his slender fingers yanking at the hem of Dean’s tee.

“Fuck dinner,” Cas growled, and damn if that statement didn’t send shivers down Dean’s spine. Next thing he knew, Dean was on the kitchen floor, Cas pinning his arms over his head and kissing him silly, all while grinding their hips together.

 

Dinner could wait.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be my favorite one so far.

_April 20, 2015_

Castiel woke slowly, aware of Dean pressed against him, his head tucked into Castiel’s shoulder, arm around his waist and their legs tangled together.

Sleeping with Dean was much akin to bunking with a warm, snuggly octopus. Dean would be the first to tell anyone who was listening that he didn’t go in for “chick-flick moments” like cuddling, but that was a total and complete lie. The man had _Fried Green Tomatoes_ in his DVD collection, for pete’s sake. Castiel knew him well enough to know that the man behind the bravado was plenty emotional, and had no trouble sharing his feelings. At least, he had no trouble sharing with Castiel. But it had taken them a long time to get to that point.

Shifting slightly in the bed, not wanting to disturb Dean, Castiel was a little disappointed to see the streaks of rain dancing on the window. Dean had taken the day after their anniversary off, and they had planned on heading up to Kansas City to go to Legends, the big outdoor mall up there, and Dean’s favorite store in the whole damn world, Cabela’s.  They had planned on lunch in downtown at Arthur Bryant’s.

They could still do all of that, but the rain would make things that much damper.

Oh well. Such is life.

Dean stirred, murmuring little non-words as he stretched, the sheet slipping down over his bare chest and hips, leaving him almost completely exposed. He blinked twice, then looked up at Castiel, brilliant green eyes twinkling even in the dimness of their bedroom.

“Mornin’,” he grinned at Castiel.

“Good morning to you,” Castiel smiled as he leant down to kiss him. Dean hooked his hand behind Castiel’s neck and turned his chaste good morning kiss into something decidedly hotter.

“Dean…”

“What? We’re already naked,” Dean smirked. “Might as well use it to our advantage.”

Castiel found he couldn’t disagree with that, and his body was definitely on board. A little while later, when their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, Castiel dragged him into the shower, and they both enjoyed washing each other, making out under the stream of hot water.

“So, we still doing KC today?” Dean asked, peering out into the wet world, clad just in a pair of old jeans that hugged every last inch of him in just the right way.

“A little rain shouldn’t slow us down.”

“True enough.” Dean turned from the window and took in Castiel’s outfit with a raised eyebrow. “Dude. That’s my shirt.”

“It’s mine. I wear it more that you do.”

“That’s ‘cause you keep stealing it!”

Castiel smiled at his reflection in the mirror, adjusting the vintage white Stones tee he’d been stealing from Dean on a regular basis for almost two years. The first time had been the weekend of Sam’s thirtieth birthday, when Castiel had showed up and surprised Dean.

“I like it. It’s comfy and it smells like you.” Castiel opened the armoire and pulled one of his own shirts out. “Here,” he tossed a shirt at Dean, “you can wear one of mine.”

Dean smirked, but put the shirt on, carefully doing up the buttons. It was the blue and white plaid button-down Castiel had worn for his cooking demo with Guy Fieri and Michael Symon in Napa.

“Holy cow.”

“What?” Dean asked self-consciously, smoothing down the non-existent wrinkles in the shirt. “Do I look stupid?”

Castiel shook his head slowly. “No. No, quite the opposite. Let’s just say, you should wear my shirts more often.”

Dean was a little broader in the shoulders and the chest than Castiel was, and the shirt fit him perfectly, like someone had measured him and made it exclusively for Dean. It was snug and form-fitting in all the right places, and Castiel felt his jeans tighten at the sight.

“I swear, everything you put on makes you look like a goddamn male model.”

His husband blushed, but smiled.

“I’m serious. You look amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“We should go, or I’m just going to drag you back to bed.”

Dean grinned, and sidled closer, pressing his chest against Castiel’s. “That’s a pretty piss poor incentive for getting me to leave.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Castiel’s neck. “You know, there’s a reason I rarely wear that Stones shirt anymore.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, sliding his hands underneath the worn cotton tee, “I don’t wear it much because I like the way you look in it. And I like taking it off of you even more.”

The Stones shirt hit the floor, and the blue and white plaid followed not long after, and Mr. and Mr. Winchester never made it to Kansas City that rainy Monday.

 


	7. Cosplay

_May 2, 2015_

 

 

Dean adjusted his brown duster and smiled at his reflection in the mirror.

"Damn, I make a perfect Mal Reynolds," he said to himself. Charlie came up behind him and slapped his shoulder.

"We do look awesome, Cap," she grinned, the curls of her brown wig tumbling over her shoulders.

"What's that make us Zoe?"

"Big damn heroes, sir," she replied with a smirk.

"I look completely ridiculous."

"You look amazing! That's a great costume, Sam!" Charlie dissolved into giggles, her eyes sparkling as they swept from Sam's feet to the top of his head. Dean chuckled.

"That'll teach you to make bets with Cas, Bitchsquatch."

"Shut up, jerk. I look like an idiot." Sam's voice is muffled under the heavy mask. "You let him hustle me. You didn't even warn me how good he was at pool…and darts…and poker! You broke the bro code man."

Dean outright laughs at that. "I warned you not to play against him! Not my fault, not my fault at all. Also, you were drunk off your ass. Mari could have beat you."

Charlie finally calmed down enough to ask a coherent question. "So, how do you feel?"

"Shut up."

"Hey. Be nice."

"You be nice. Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Idiot!"

"Assbutt!"

Dean laughed. "Assbutt? Seriously, Cas…" the words died on his tongue as he turned to see his husband.

Cas had on a crisp white shirt, navy blue pants with a thick gold stripe down each outer seam, and shiny, knee-high black leather boots.

Holy hotness. Dean's mouth went instantly dry, as he stared at one of his secret fantasies come to life. His gorgeous dark haired husband, fake blaster in hand, a perfect, living, breathing representation of Dean's all-time favorite fictional character.

Suddenly, Harrison Ford didn't seem quite so hot anymore, not with this gorgeous blue eyed version of Han Solo standing in his living room.

"Uhh…" Dean mumbled intelligently.

Cas tilted his head at Dean, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. Dean felt his cheeks flame. Oh god, he was hot. Like smoking hot. Like the Impala's black leather seats on an August day when all the windows are up and you get in for just a second to check the odometer but you've got swim shorts on and  _ow! ow! ow!_  hot.

They stared at each other, eyes locked, heat building, then Sam cleared his throat.

"Sometime today?" he grumbled through his mask. Cas chuckled as he swept his eyes over Sam's tall form.

"You do make a wonderful Chewbacca, Sam."

Sam huffed as he pulled the mask off, his face red, sweat making strands of his long hair stick to his face. "I hate you. You totally hustled me."

Dean says nothing as Sam and Cas argue light-heartedly back and forth, his eyes fixed on Cas. God, he looks amazing. Like, he knew Cas would look good dressed as Han Solo, it was why he had suggested it in the first place. But he hadn't been expecting just how good he'd look.

Now, he has absolutely zero desire to go up to Kansas City and the Comicon. Charlie and Sam can go. Dean's gonna stay here and peel his husband back out of that costume, at least part of the way, 'cause he's definitely down with the idea of having sex with Han Solo. Maybe he could just unbutton the shirt, maybe the pants, leave most of it on, climb up on top and…

"Dean? You coming?"

Or not. Dammit.

* * *

God, this costume sucks ass.

Sam is so sweaty, he's pretty sure there's a puddle developing in the lower regions of the Chewbacca suit. He hopes Cas loses the security deposit on the rental. That would cheer him immensely.

Charlie is at his side, going gaga over a large display of multisided dice in every color of the rainbow. She looks pretty cute with the Zoe wig and the whole leather get-up that character wears. Maybe one of these days he'll get around to actually watching  _Firefly_.

Speaking of which, it's been at least an hour since he's seen the intrepid Captains Reynolds and Solo. They're going to miss the costume contest.

"Charlie? Can you text Dean and Cas? I would, but I can't." He holds up his gloved hands in explanation.

"Um…don't think that's necessary." She points across the room, at Cas and Dean who are coming towards them.

Cas's eyes are fiery and determined and he's practically dragging Dean by the arm. His brother is  _wrecked_ , hair a mess and costume disheveled, and shit, Sam does not want to think about what they've been doing.

"We're getting a room," Cas growls, tossing the Impala keys at Charlie. "We'll find our own way home." Then he's wrapping an arm around Dean and dragging him off again, Dean tossing a happy, sexed-out grin back at Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes, and yanks off his Chewbacca head. "That's…I don't even know."

Charlie grins. "We can still have fun, furball. There's lots to do."

"Ok. Lead the way then." He extends his arm, and Charlie takes it happily.

Two girls dressed as fairies walk by them, giggling to each other.

"Did you see them?" The first girl asks.

"Oh my god, yes. I got pictures. I can't wait to put it on tumblr. That's going to make me tumblr famous, I'm telling you. Hottest ship ever."

"Yup, and those two were hot as hell, I could have watched them make out all day. Did they seriously think no one would see them behind that plant? But what do we call them? MalHan? SolRey?"

"Hell if I know, but by the end of the day, most of tumblr will be shipping Mal Reynolds and Han Solo."

Sam just rolls his eyes again and goes with it.

 


	8. Shopping

_May 24, 2015_

Fame did not agree with Dean Winchester.

Honestly, he didn't know how Cas did it. It bothered him. He was standing in Dillard's in Oak Park Mall trying to decide between a green tie and a red tie. There was a perky twenty-something pointing him out to her friends and giggling.

This had been happening all damn day.

Hell, the whole reason he was here was because  _Kansas Kustoms_  (and who was the genius that came up with that name? Seriously?  _Kansas Kustoms_? Dean hated the name, but apparently being the boss of the shop didn't give him creative control over the show. He probably shoulda read that contract a little better) had won some big TV award and there was a dinner he was expected to go to, and did he mention how much he hated this "fame" thing?

Anyway, Cas and Jo had had enough of his whining (he wasn't whining, he was expressing his distaste for the whole fame…yeah, ok he was whining) and had moseyed off to find a latte or get matching manicures or something, he didn't know, all he knew was that, there he was, in the middle of the mall, alone, with god, groupies?, honing in on him and infringing on his God-given personal space!

One thing he knew for certain. He was in no way, shape, or form, picking out anything resembling underwear with these giggling girls hanging around.

"Well look at you, Mr. Famous."

Well, he guessed the day could get worse after all.

"Bela."

She tossed her long honey colored tresses over her shoulder, looking ridiculously elegant as usual, in a black tailored suit with a pristine white silk blouse and pearls, enormous Louis Vuitton purse hanging off her arm, and sky-high heels.

"Hello, darling. Look at you, with your cackling fan base. It's adorable." She leaned in closer, and whispered in his ear. "Shame they don't know what a hot mess you are in real life, isn't it sweetheart?"

Now, he should be able to handle this. Hell, he's married now, it's been almost a year, he's in the middle of a successful relationship, his career is successful beyond his wildest dreams, the sessions with Pamela have made dealing with his PTSD so much better, really, Dean's healthier than he's ever been.

But there is something about  _her_ , something she does, maybe it's the way she speaks to him, or the absolute poise and elegance she possesses, but something about her puts Dean right back there, back to the quivering mess he was that morning after the Impala burned, when he fell apart completely and ran, without a second guess or thought, just the overwhelming urge to run.

He's shaking, it's almost unnoticeable, but he can feel it in his hands and he hates her for it. He hates her with everything in him and it fuels the fire inside, and his hands involuntarily curl into fists.

"Leave me alone," Dean growls.

"Look at you, you fierce little tiger! Did you grow a backbone somewhere? Or is this your husband's influence? I can't help but laugh at that. You, married to a man! I bet you're the wife in the relationship aren't you? You're far too weak to be the dominant spouse. Maybe you like being the precious little submissive housewife. Do you have a sweet frilly apron to go with your pearls?" She's not exactly being quiet, and Dean's fangirls are rustling, an undercurrent of anger sweeping through them.

"Fuck off, Bela, I mean it, just fucking go to hell!" Dean stalks off to the tie display, hoping she'll get the message and leave him alone.

"That's right, run away, isn't that what you always do?"

He turns away from her, and stares down at the ties in his hands, surprised to find his fists fully clenched around the green and red silk. He's shaking a little harder now, and is doing his absolute damndest to rein in his anger. Dean wants nothing more than to turn around and punch her, to put his fist through her jaw.

He turns to face her again, and his voice is low, flat and angry. "Bela. Leave. Me. Alone."

"Oh, aren't you cute? Just too cute for wor-"

Bela takes a fist to the face, Dean never sees it coming, and it's not his fist, it's Jo's, and she stands over Bela, breathing hard, looking like she's about to do it again. Cas is right behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and pulling her away.

"Try something again, bitch, and you'll get it worse next time! Fuckin' bitch!" Jo's fighting Cas with everything in her, and he's doing his damn best to pull her out of the store. Dean drops both ties on the display and quickly follows them, his admirers standing around in shocked silence.

"Bitch had it comin'…" he hears someone mutter as he hurriedly walks past, and he tosses them a grateful smile.

* * *

Back at the house, Castiel gets a bag of ice for Jo's hand. He affectionately chucks her chin. "Little firecracker," he grins, gently pressing the ice to her slightly bruised knuckles.

"Dean's out back. Should I go apologize? Is this gonna make him look bad?"

"I don't think so. There were witnesses that heard Bela harassing him. I'm sure it will be fine."

Jo nods, and slides off her perch on the kitchen island. "I'm going to head home." She saunters over to the front door. "You know, we didn't even get his clothes for the dinner?"

"I'll take care of it. See you tomorrow?"

"Yup!"

Heading outside, Castiel finds Dean sitting on the huge chaise lounge he'd bought for their anniversary more than a year ago.

"Hey," he says, plopping down next to him, "you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Just happily reliving that moment. Jo…god I love that girl."

"Me, too." Castiel wraps an arm around his husband and pulls him in close. "Tell me you didn't believe anything she said?"

Dean sighs. "A year ago? Yeah, I would have. And I almost started to today. But I remembered you. I remembered how much you love me. And I dunno, she just made me angry. I didn't feel that damn worthlessness, the way she always made me feel before. I mean, look at us Cas. We've been together two years, married almost a whole year, and I'm happy. Really happy. I was with her for three years, and I was miserable almost the entire time. Believe me, I know now, the problem wasn't me, it was her. It was always her." He sighs again. "I'm not making any sense."

"You're making plenty of sense, and that's a damn healthy reaction. I'm proud of you, you've come so far." Castiel leans over, laying soft kisses on Dean's neck. "Let's go upstairs, crawl into that beautiful bathtub of ours and forget the whole day. I can make us a quick something to eat in bed if you want."

"That sounds amazing, Cas. God, I love you."

"I love you too. You're everything to me."

Dean blushes slightly, a sweet smile on his lips, and they sit on the chaise a while longer, watching the sun go down.

 


	9. Hanging with Friends

June 4, 2015

They were taking up one long line of seats in Lawrence High's stadium bleachers.

The Winchester clan was also, quite possibly, the noisiest group of people there, and Dean could see the slight blush on Ben's cheeks as he accepted his diploma, and Adam, Jo, Benny and Sam all stood up and yelled as loud as they could. Which was pretty damn loud.

He was sitting in between Cas and Lisa, who was openly sobbing as she clutched his and Victor's hands. "My baby, my baby," she muttered nonsensically, as Dean and Vic shared a grin over her head.

Dean surreptitiously wiped away a tear of his own.

His boy, his baby, all grown up, diploma in hand, blushingly waving up at his family from the stage.

Ben is so handsome, tall and strong, and so damn smart. He's gonna follow in his Uncle Sam's footsteps, off to Stanford on a full ride, going to become a lawyer, and Dean couldn't be more proud. Even if his heart is breaking slightly at the thought of four, no,  _eight_  with grad school, years without his son around all the time. No more baseball games, no more midnight Monopoly tourneys, no more last minute trips to KC to go to Cabela's, no more "hey Dad, can I crash at your place tonight?", no more sitting on the deck steps and hearing about his girl, no, Ben's all grown up and leaving them.

Dean's eyes fill with tears again, and he's just so incredibly sad all of the sudden. He's been through this before after all, when Sam and Dad had their massive screaming match in the front yard the night before his brother left for Stanford.

As if he can read his mind, Sam leans forward and whispers in Dean's ear. "It won't be like that, you know? You can go see him any time you want, and he can fly home any time. Between you, me, and Cas, he won't be hurting for anything. He'll be fine, and so will you."

Sam's hand is heavy and reassuring on his back, and Dean sighs, the tears drying up again. Cas finds his hand, and intertwines their fingers, Lisa is still holding the other one, Sam's got a hand on his back, as does Jess, and it grounds him, brings him right back down to Earth, as the pride slides back into place.

_Look at him,_ Dean thinks, as Ben's girlfriend, Clary, kisses him as he returns to his seat amongst his fellow students,  _look how good he looks. He's gonna be fine. He really will._

* * *

The party is loud and raucous, lots of alcohol for the adults, tons of sodas for the teenagers.

Ben is wrapped around Clary on the huge chaise lounge, heads pressed together, hands joined, oblivious to the party going on around them. Clary's headed to Princeton in the fall. She and Ben will be on opposite coasts. They've both been very mature about it, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the summer, but Dean knows that Ben will ache when she leaves. They've been together most of their high school career.

He sighs heavily. Bobby appears next to him where he's leaning against the deck rail, and he pushes a beer into Dean's hand.

"Ya alright there, Dad?"

"Yeah. I'm ok."

"Ya sure?"

Dean sighed again. "No, I'm not sure. How is he still my kid and all grown up at the same time?"

Bobby smiled. "It happens, kiddo. One minute, they're snot-nosed kids, next thing you know, they're married with kids of their own." He looked pointedly at Dean.

"Yeah, ok, I hear you. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Look, I know you'd like to keep him here, but baby birds gotta fly the coop someday."

Dean nods, looking out at the yard again. His friends and family are all there, Charlie and Jo sitting very close to each other on a lawn chair, whispering conspiratorially. They've been seen together a lot since Gilda decided to move back home to Romania, effectively breaking up with Charlie.

Adam, Benny, Ash, Jess, Garth, Sam, and Vic are playing cards at the picnic table, Sam grinning like an idiot as he wins the current hand and is rewarded with a shower of chips and pretzels.

Ellen, Madison, and Lisa are sitting on the end of the chaise talking to Ben and Clary, and several of Ben's friends have started a volleyball game and are demanding that he join them.

Cas is sitting with Mari in his lap, reading her a story while the baby tries to chew the corner of the book. He looks up and smiles at Dean, an expression so filled with love it takes his breath away.

"See?" Bobby is saying, "everything will be fine. You'll be fine. You've got all of us, and you know that boy thinks the world of his old man. Really, got nothin' to worry about kiddo."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean says sincerely, and the older man gives him half a hug and walks over to the card players.

Surveying his family, Dean realizes that everyone is right. He's going to be ok.

Ben smiles widely at him from across the yard.

He'll be ok.

They all will.

 


	10. Hurt/Comfort

_July 4, 2015_

Castiel woke to birdsong, sunlight, and an empty bed. The morning was unseasonably cool and a soft breeze danced in the white curtains. He stretched, sitting up, looking around and wondering where his husband had managed to wander off to at nine on a holiday morning.

Pulling himself out of bed, Castiel headed for the shower. He could hear the sound of a hose spraying through the open bathroom window. Peeking his head out, he caught sight of Dean in nothing but slightly wet blue jeans and a fairly liberal coating of soap suds.

He very much enjoyed watching the muscles in Dean’s freckled back flex as he leaned down to dip a rag in the bucket of soapy water at his feet. Next, he crouched down beside the rear passenger side tire and scrubbed at the rally wheel.

Castiel could hear the faint sounds of Zep’s _Black Dog_ drifting in the air, and Dean was quietly singing along.

This was actually pretty typical of Dean, to get up before the sun hit the driveway and wash and wax the Impala and the Corvette. Dean refused to do the job in the sunlight, citing that the water would dry on the car and leave spots, plus he insisted that you weren’t ever, under pain of death and ruined clear coat, supposed to do a wax job anywhere but in full shade.

“Good morning gorgeous,” Castiel called down through the open window. Dean stood and smiled up at him, green eyes twinkling.

“Hey. Sleep good?”

“Yeah, until I woke up alone,” Castiel teased. “I see Baby won over sleeping in on a holiday morning.”

“Haha, all those people are coming for the barbeque later and I can’t have Baby dirty and dusty. Would be damn unpatriotic of me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to start some laundry, and then I’ll make us some breakfast, then it’s cook-o-rama. I have many apple pies to make.”

“Sounds great, babe. Love you,” Dean smiled before crouching down to work on the wheel again. Castiel watched for a moment more and then grabbed the hamper in their bathroom. Making his way around the room, he gathered the rest of the laundry, including their sheets, which were a little…dirty, he thought with a smirk.

Hefting the heavy laundry basket, he made his way down the stairs. Stopping briefly in the kitchen, Castiel fired up the coffee pot and pulled some bacon from the freezer to thaw.

It smelled wonderful downstairs, all the windows open, and breezes playing in the curtains. It was going to be beautiful weather for their 4th of July party, then afterwards, they’d all drive to downtown Lawrence to watch the fireworks over the Kansas River.

Castiel couldn’t wait. It was going to be a great day.

Hoisting the laundry once more, he pulls open the door to the basement. He’s about four stairs from the bottom when he somehow misses the step, and his right ankle twists under him. Castiel lets go of the hamper, hands shooting out blindly for the rails, but it’s no good, and he falls, painfully, down the last four steps, his ankle screaming in pain.

He smacks his head on a bookshelf at the foot of the stairs, and stars dance in his vision.

Oh, he hurts. He hurts very badly.

Reaching for his cellphone, Castiel’s dismayed to realize he left it all the way upstairs, on his nightstand.

Dean won’t hear him calling from down here. He tries to move towards the finished side of the basement, where the TV and house phone are. Castiel’s head spins, and his stomach lurches. He can’t move. He’s simply hurting far too badly. He might make it to the door, but getting all the way across the floor to the phone is not going to happen.

“Dean? Dean?” he calls as loud as he can. He can still hear the water traveling through the pipes on the way out to the hose, so he knows Dean’s still outside. Resigning himself to being stuck there for a while, Castiel pulls all the sheets closer, using them to prop his throbbing head.

He must doze for a bit, because next thing he knows, a white faced, terrified Dean is gently shaking him awake.

“Cas! Cas, wake up, baby, please!”

“Uh, don’t shake me, my head…”

“There’s an ambulance coming, I was afraid to move you and you wouldn’t wake up, how far did you fall, I was so damn scared…”

“I hit my head. Fell about four steps, hurt my ankle.”

“Ok, ok, the door is open, Jo’s waiting for the ambulance, I’m gonna sit right here with you.” Dean shifts around, leans against the wall next to the bookshelf, and carefully pulls Castiel into his arms, settling him against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. “God, you scared me Cas.” Dean nuzzles his face into Castiel’s neck.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m so glad you found me though, I thought I was going to lay here all day.”

“Like I wouldn’t have come looking for you.” Dean kisses the side of his head. “Whew. Look at your ankle. Bet you sprained that pretty damn bad.” The ankle in question is purple and swollen, throbbing intermittently with his pulse, and Castiel hopes to hell it isn’t broken.

“Looks like no fireworks for me tonight.”

“Well, if that’s the case, we’ll stay home and make some extremely careful fireworks of our own, ok?”

Castiel smiles. “I bet we will.” He leans fully into Dean’s arms, relaxing despite the pain. “I love you.” The can hear the sirens in the distance, and Dean kisses him softly again.

“Love you too, baby.”

 

 


	11. Making Out

_July 4, 2015_

"You don't have to stay, you know?"

Dean looked up from his magazine in surprise. Cas was sitting up on the hospital bed in the ER, arms crossed over his chest, a grumpy scowl on his face.

"Where would I go?"

"Home. There's a lot to be done for the party, and I can just call you when I'm done."

"Nope. Stuck with me. No one wants to hang in an ER alone anyway." He flipped a page in the magazine, "'sides, Jo already hijacked all the food and took it to Ellen's."

Cas's scowl grows deeper, and Dean resists the urge to laugh at him. "It was our turn. Bobby and Ellen hosted last year."

"So?"

He huffs, and stares off into space, brows still furrowed. Dean frowns and sets the magazine aside. "Cas? What's wrong?" he gestures to his husband's ankle, propped on a pillow and covered with ice, "other than, y'know, the obvious."

"I wanted…I just wanted…" he sighs, all the fight draining out of him. Pulling himself from the chair, Dean settles lightly on the bed next to Cas, gently pulling him into his arms.

"What's wrong? This about more than just missing the barbecue."

"I just want this to be perfect. It's Ben's last 4th before he leaves for college, and I didn't want you to have to worry, or really do anything, I just wanted you to be able to enjoy the day, and now, I've managed to mess all of that up."

"Cas, it's not a big deal. It's not like you deliberately threw yourself down the stairs or something. You're damn lucky you don't have a concussion too, with that lump on your head. Look at this way, you'll get to park in a chaise all day, and we'll all wait on you. And, like you said yourself, at least it's not broken, right?"

To Dean's surprise, Cas bursts into tears. "I'm…I'm sorry, D-Dean. I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for what? You didn't do anything wrong, Cas!"

"I ruined our party, messed up the whole day and I…"

Dean shuts him up with a long lingering kiss, the kind Cas loves the best, the ones where he takes his time, pressing their lips together, tongue darting out to gently lick at Cas's lower lip, slowly taking it deeper, cupping his chin in his hand, pressing his tongue against Cas's mouth until the other man lets him in, tasting the salt from his tears and the lingering taste of the coffee he'd brought him earlier.

When they pull apart, Cas's cheeks are flushed and he's breathless, but the tears have stopped.

"Better?"

Cas sniffles. "I um. I don't know what happened there. I'm sorry."

"Probably the pain meds. They gave you morphine, right? That shit makes me nutty." Dean thumbed a tear off Cas's cheek.

"Possibly. But I um…I need…"

"Anything, Cas."

He smirked slightly, blue eyes twinkling. "I think I need more of your um… _special_ medicine, Dr. Sexy."

Dean laughed, loud and long. "Dr. Sexy, huh? Mmm, so uh, I guess you're waiting for your prescription then?" He groaned, rolling his eyes. "God, could we be any cornier?"

"Yes," Cas growled, surging back against Dean, wrapping his hand around the back of Dean's head, pulling him in roughly, yanking on the short strands, and damn, Cas being rough? Yeah, that went straight to his dick.

Their lips crashed together, Cas dominating the kiss, pushing his way into Dean's mouth forcefully, not that he would have fought back in the least. Tongues tangle, breaths are panted into each other's mouths, and Dean can't hold back the moan that slips out.

This time, when they pull apart, they're both wrecked, flushed, Dean's even started to sweat a bit.

"Ahem."

Dean's eyes widen, and Cas chuckles. The doctor is standing in the doorway, huge grin on her face.

"So, I can wrap your ankle and send you home now, or I can go away for five more minutes."

Feeling his cheeks flush, Dean hides his face in Cas's shirt with an embarrassed, and  _embarrassing_ , whimper.

Cas chuckles.

"No way, I'm more than ready to go."

* * *

The afternoon is very pleasant, and as Dean predicted, Castiel is waited on hand and foot, no pun intended. He spends most of the day in one of the big chaise lounges in Bobby and Ellen's backyard, watching the kids splash in the pool. And by kids, he means Sam, Adam, and Dean, the overgrown children, who each seem to be making it their mission to drown their brothers.

Dean comes up sputtering for the hundredth time, wet hair plastered to his forehead, and he turns to grin at Castiel, and Adam uses this to his advantage, shallow diving and yanking Dean's feet out from under him.

The look on Dean's face when he goes down is nothing short of hilarious, and Castiel is still laughing when he pulls himself out.

Later, they all pile into cars and drive back to Lawrence, choosing spots along the Kansas River to watch the fireworks. Dean lays a blanket and some pillows across the hood of his baby, and Sam and Dean help Castiel up onto the hood.

Dean climbs up on the other side, and snuggles in close. The night is cool for July, and the sky is big, black, and cloudless, stars twinkling merrily.

Ellen passes around plates of apple pie, Bobby hands out beers and sodas, and everyone settles in to watch the fireworks.

"I love you," Dean whispers softly in his ear, and Castiel turns his head for a kiss.

They're still kissing when the fireworks start, but neither one of them bothers to stop and look.

Castiel and Dean are far too busy making their own.

 


	12. Eating Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this took so long but my Wincestiel Big Bang is eating me alive!!!

_July 23, 2015_

"So guess what?"

Castiel smiled at Dean as he set his cell on the counter.

"What?" Dean asked, pulling a platter out of the dishwasher.

"Anna's pregnant!"

Dean's face lit up. "That's awesome! When's she due?"

"December," Castiel replied happily, pleased at the very idea of another niece or nephew, and loving the happy tinkle that had been in Anna's voice when she told him. She and Michael had had a terrible time getting pregnant with the girls, and this new little person had surprised both of them, but they were both very excited and happy. "Anna said Michael's very much hoping for a boy this time, but will be happy either way."

"That's great! I'm happy for them." Dean turned back to unloading the dishwasher, while Castiel moved around the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients to make ice cream. They had been invited to Bobby and Ellen's for dinner, and Castiel had promised to bring dessert.

"Hey Cas?"

"Hmm?" he replied, busy pulling stuff out for the ice cream.

"You ever think about it?"

"Think about what?"

"Having kids?" Dean's voice was quiet, almost shy, and Castiel froze in his tracks.

"Aren't we a little old for that?"

"Anna's older than you…"

"I don't think…I mean, I don't know, Dean. Can we talk about this later? I could use your help with the ice cream."

Dean's face fell slightly. "Ankle still hurting?"

"Not so much today." That was the truth. In the three weeks since he gracelessly tumbled down the stairs, Castiel's ankle had almost completely healed, and he was pretty much back to normal although he was still being careful with how much time he spent on his feet at the restaurant.

Dean was setting up the ice cream maker on the counter, the expression on his face a little sad. Castiel moved behind him and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. "I'm not saying I won't talk about it, I'm just saying not now. When we have the time to really talk about it, not when we're rushed and trying to get other stuff done, ok?"

"Ok." A faint smile graced his face. "So what kind of ice cream are we making?"

"One I invented just for you babe."

His husband's face lightened considerably. "Yeah?"

"Yes. A cinnamon custard base with caramel swirl, and chunks of pie crust and apple filling mixed in."

Dean's eyes widened. "Apple pie ice cream?"

" _Caramel_ apple pie ice cream. Just for you."

"I love you."

"Ha! Let's wait 'til after you taste it. It might suck."

"Nah, it'll be perfect. Now get to it chef!"

Castiel chuckled, and pulled out a sauce pan from the cabinet. "I made the filling, crust and caramel earlier. We just have to make the cinnamon ice cream." He handed Dean a vanilla bean. "Wanna cut that up and get the seeds while I start making the base?"

"Sure." Fetching a knife and cutting board, Dean got to work on the vanilla bean. Castiel mixed eggs, heavy cream, half and half, and sugar in the pan. He added Dean's vanilla bean and a heavy dose of cinnamon. When everything came to a bubble, he took the pan off the heat. "We'll let that sit and cool, then toss it in the mixer. Wanna help me break up the pie crust?"

Dean nodded with a smile, and took the sheet tray of crust Castiel handed him. Five minutes later and Castiel was rather grateful he'd made too much – on purpose – because he was pretty sure Dean ate two pieces for every one he put in the bowl.

"You're eating all the profits, Dean," Castiel told him drily. Dean had the decency to look ashamed at least, mouth covered in pie crust crumbs.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Castiel leaned forward and kissed the crumbs off his mouth.

"Don't be. I know you. I made extra."

Green eyes twinkled merrily as Dean snatched another piece of crust. "It's so good. I love your cooking, babe."

"Ok, ok, but let's get the rest of it made. Go get the bowl out of the freezer."

Dean complied and a short time later, they were both watching the ice cream spin around in the ice cream maker.

"Looks so good. I need that like now."

"Gotta let it freeze."

"I'm impatient."

"No kidding." Castiel grinned at Dean. "Good thing I made a batch last night then isn't it?"

"Ooh!" Dean practically ran to the freezer, quickly finding the container.

"Slow down there, cowboy, I want some too!"

Digging around in the silverware drawer, Dean produced a single spoon. He wrenched the lid off the container and tossed it in the sink, then grabbed Castiel's hand and forcefully dragged him into the living room and pushed him down into the couch.

He straddled Castiel's lap with a grin, digging in the container with the spoon. There was a huge glob of ice cream on the spoon and Dean shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

"Mmmmmm! Ohmigod, it's pie and ice cream at the same time!" he exclaimed, voice slightly muffled by the ice cream. Dean happily sagged against Castiel, still digging in the container and a second later, Castiel's mouth was also full of cold, cinnamon-y goodness.

And Dean's tongue.

Dean was  _licking_  the ice cream out of his mouth.

Castiel suppressed a chuckle, and opened his mouth wider, using his own tongue to push the dessert into Dean's mouth.

His husband gasped slightly, grinding down on Castiel's lap, already hard as a rock, and truth be told, Castiel wasn't too far behind him.

Food, truly good food, had never failed to turn Dean on, and combining his two favorite desserts? Castiel knew that wouldn't fail.

They shared another bite of ice cream, cold, sticky, and deliciously filthy, Dean groaning in ecstasy, grinding harder on Castiel's lap. Castiel carefully removed the container from Dean's hands, put it on the coffee table, then flipped his husband onto his back on the couch.

"So," he whispered into Dean's ear, "I'm guessing you like the ice cream?"

 


	13. In a Different Style of Clothing

_July 31, 2015_

It was, by far, the most amazing and fun wedding Castiel had ever attended.

His own notwithstanding, of course.

Kali and Gabe had gone all out with a Waldorf Wedding, and Kali had artfully mixed East and West into a fabulous amalgamation of glitz and glamour. Candles and crystals twinkled on every table and fragrant flowers filled the space with a delicate perfume. Silk draped walls and soft lighting in shades of rose and orange transformed the room. Everyone was laughing and dancing, having a wonderful time, dining on the fantastic fusion cuisine the bride and groom had invented themselves.

Kali's very large and boisterous family was in attendance, aunts, uncles and cousins flown in from Delhi, Mumbai, Burbank and Austin, and Anna, Michael, and the girls from Chicago. Castiel recognized many members of his and Gabe's adopted family, staff from the restaurant, and other folks like the Flays, the Symons, and several more of their culinary friends, everyone wearing beautiful Indian attire.

He'd been filled with pride, standing with his brother as best man, beaming as he handed the rings to Gabe, looking across the room to meet Dean's eyes and knowing that his husband was also happily remembering their own wedding.

Castiel was truly having a wonderful time.

It didn't hurt that the deep purple silk Sherwani Dean was wearing made him look like a million bucks.

His husband danced Anna across the floor, his sister gorgeous with her red locks tumbling over her shoulders and her gold and green Sari rippling out from her body like waves of silk water.

At the main table, Kali and Gabe were completely intertwined, staring into each other's eyes. Gabe looked very handsome in his pure white silk Sherwani, covered in gold embroidery and tiny sparkling crystals. As his best man, Castiel's costume was very similar, although not as detailed so as not to take away from the groom.

Kali, however, looked like the goddess for which she was named.

Her thick dark hair had been swept into a loose bun and gold jewelry had been wrapped into the soft curls. She was covered in gold, from the jewels dangling from her ears and neck, the bangles stacked on her wrists, and the delicate gold embroidery on her blood red Sari. Intricate patterns applied in traditional henna snaked up her arms and legs, matching patterns on her sister's body.

She was glowing, the center of attention and loving it, and no one was paying her closer attention than his brother.

Gabe had a look on his face somewhere between adoration and shell-shocked, and Castiel had never seen his silly, fun-loving brother look so happy and so perfectly contented.

Watching Dean laugh at something Anna said, Castiel knew exactly how he felt.

The party stretched into the wee hours of the morning, toast after toast lifted in the bride and groom's honor, cakes and desserts and alcohol fueling the merry-making.

It was just after two a.m. when Castiel noticed that the happy couple had disappeared and Dean was just about asleep with his head on Castiel's shoulder as they spun lazily around the dance floor to  _At Last._

"Dean."

"Mmm?"

"Let's go up to our room. You're almost dead on your feet."

Dean nodded an affirmation and let Castiel pull him out of the room. He blinked sleepily at him in the elevator, green eyes mostly closed as he leaned up against Castiel.

"Was a nice wedding," Dean mumbled tiredly.

"Yes, and next month we'll be doing it again at Adam and Madison's."

"And another monkey-suit. Yay."

"Oh, come on. You look so nice in that outfit."

"You do too. Everyone looked so nice. Pretty clothes." Dean yawned and stretched, smiling at Castiel all the while. "You looked better than anyone."

"Hah! I thought that about you. Purple is a nice color on you."

Dean smiled again, leaning forward for a kiss. It started off chaste, but Castiel felt a surge of heat in his belly and pulled Dean in tight, deepening the kiss into something decidedly less chaste, cupping Dean's face in his hand.

He pulled away as the elevator stopped on their floor. Dean suddenly didn't look quite as tired as before.

Back in their beautiful room, Castiel slowly peeled Dean out of his wedding clothes, carelessly tossing them over the plush sofa. He then stripped his own away, and dragged Dean into their bedroom, lips locked together. He gently pushed Dean down on the bed and covered him with his body.

"Weddings make you horny, Cas?" Dean asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"I was remembering ours, and our wedding night." He leaned over and sucked Dean's nipple into his mouth.

"Gah-that was- that was a great night," Dean gasped.

"Mmhmm. It was. Just you and me," another kiss, "and that big bed in the hotel. It's a wonder we made our plane the next morning." Castiel ducked his head, laying soft kisses along Dean's neck, his hand slipping down to cup Dean's dick. "I think we should re-create some of that tonight."

Dean nodded enthusiastically, and opened his mouth to reply but instead of words, a huge yawn came out. His cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry," he muttered, "more tired than I thought."

Castiel smiled, and reached for the lube. "You just lay there, I'll take care of everything." He leaned into another kiss, then moved off of Dean. "Roll over on your side. We'll do this the cuddly way."

A smile was tossed back at him as Dean rolled over. Castiel pressed kisses along Dean's neck and spine as his hands drifted lower. He dribbled some lube onto his fingers, then gently circled Dean's entrance with his index finger.

He prepped Dean slowly, enjoying the sweet little gasps and moans tumbling from his husband's mouth.

"Fuck, Cas, I'm ready. C'mon."

Castiel kissed him just behind his ear and pulled Dean's leg up over his own, sliding his own thigh between Dean's. He lined up and pushed in very slowly, Dean pushing his hips back into Castiel's.

"Cas-ss-s," Dean whined.

"It's ok, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you." Castiel pulls back, pushes back in, and does it again, a sweet and gentle rhythm. Dean is warm in his arms, pliant and relaxed. He's making sweet little whimpers and breathy little gasps, and he moans softly when Castiel wraps his hand around him and slowly jacks him, keeping time with his deliberate and lazy thrusts.

Dean comes first, with a happy little groan. Castiel isn't far behind him, and when he comes, he pulls Dean as tight to his chest as he can, leaving more little kisses on his neck, ear and shoulder.

"I love you," he whispers.

"Love you too," Dean mumbles, already being pulled down into sleep. He lays with him until Dean is completely asleep, then pulls out and fetches a damp washcloth from the bathroom to clean him up.

After, he crawls into bed beside him, and Dean immediately rolls back over, face instinctively traveling to Castiel's shoulder, arm dropping over his waist, legs tangling together.

"I love you," Castiel whispers again, as he presses his lips to Dean's forehead.

A moment later he follows his husband into sleep.

 


	14. During Their Morning Routine

_August 1, 2015_

One thing in this world that made being an early riser truly worth it was watching Dean Winchester sleep.

It was the morning after the wedding, and Castiel smiled at the man curled up next to him, a rush of warmth filling him as he watched Dean's face twitch with some unknown dream. Dean was pressed tight against him, head on his shoulder and an arm around his waist. He was snoring slightly, mouth partially open.

He ran his hand through Dean's hair, enjoying the smell of him and the feel of his naked body. He didn't want to get up. Castiel would happily just stay in bed all day and never move, just keep Dean close to him, breathing in his scent and reveling in the nearness.

There wasn't always time for this. They were both so busy these days. Pearly Gates was doing a brisk business, they were always mobbed, and Castiel was already in the process of opening another restaurant on the other side of Lawrence, possibly expanding into Kansas City and Topeka as well. Dean was busy with the third expansion of the shop, and the TV show, plus hiring new people.

So mornings like this, when they had nowhere to be and nothing to do, were becoming very rare, and as a result, incredibly treasured.

Castiel reached for the phone beside the bed, quietly calling in an order for breakfast, pastries, fruit, and coffee, without moving or disturbing Dean at all. He'd have to get out of bed to let the bell boy in, but there was a robe nearby, and he wasn't moving until the last possible second.

Dean shifted, grumbled, and rolled off of Castiel, the blanket sliding off his shoulder and exposing his back . Smiling, Castiel leaned over and pressed a row of kisses up Dean's naked spine. His husband hummed slightly, rolling back over to face him. He opened one beautiful green eye, smiled at Castiel, then closed it again, stretching his arms above his head.

He hooked Castiel's neck on the way back down, pulling him into a kiss. "Good morning," he whispered against Castiel's lips.

"Morning." He kissed Dean back, letting his hand slide under the blanket and down his chest. "Sleep well?"

"Mm-hmm. You?" Dean kissed him softly again, letting his lips travel down over his chin, and onto his neck, trailing kisses across Castiel's skin.

"Yes. I ordered breakfast. It should be here shortly."

"Ok. What's our plans for today?"

"Who says we need plans? We could spend the whole day in bed as far as I'm concerned."

"Mmm, I'm fine with that." Dean slid back up Castiel's body, covering him with his own and kissing him deeply. As his hands wandered down his side, there was a knock at the door. "Dammit."

Castiel chuckled. "Hold that thought," he grinned, pulling himself out of bed and sliding the robe on. "Be right back."

Castiel answered the door, retrieved their breakfast and tipped the bell boy. He took the tray back into the bedroom. They spent the next half hour or so eating, feeding each other, and sipping the hot coffee, in between sweet kisses and softly whispered words.

It was peaceful, and indulgent, and something their busy schedules just hadn't allowed for lately. They made love when they were finished, then Dean was dragging him into the shower. They took way longer than they needed to, and ended up back in the bed, not fully dried, hands and mouths everywhere.

This was not their standard morning routine.

Usually, it was quick showers, hurried dressing, grabbing a cup of coffee and quick kisses before heading their separate ways.

They used to drive together, sometimes in the Impala, sometimes in the Vette, since Castiel's restaurant was just across the street from Winchester and Sons, but since he's been working on the new place, they take separate cars most mornings now.

Castiel used to bring lunch for Dean every day, and they'd eat in his office, talking quietly and enjoying each other's company. He would be glad when the new place opened and he wouldn't have to be there as much, looking forward to returning to his place across from the shop.

Dean rolled over, his hair a mess and his skin flushed. "So I'm totally on board with this whole day in bed thing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Dean snuggled in, head on Castiel's shoulder. "Yeah, I'm definitely on board with this."

"Me, too, love. Me, too."

Dean gradually falls back asleep in his arms, and Castiel's not far behind.

 


	15. Spooning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning.  
> Possible disturbing imagery and PTSD.  
> Keep in mind that PTSD never fully goes away.

_August 6, 2015_

A hot wind blew across the desert, sweeping sand and other debris around the line of Humvees. The air was dry and miserably hot.

Dean watched, detached, as Benny shook his unconscious body, prone on the ground. The Humvee behind them was burning and people were screaming.

It was so strange, standing like this, watching as things played out around him. Dean watched himself shake Benny off and run for the downed Humvee he'd been thrown from. He watched all of it, Benny climbing up to get him down, watched as he screamed for Andy, then collapsed in Benny's arms.

The scene shifted; the dark interior of a tent.

Dean watched as Major Alastair pinned him up against a table, growling "I carved you into a new animal", watched as tears dripped from his own eyes as Alastair threatened him, threatened his friends. He watched himself torture the girl, her screams piercing his eardrums.

"Why, Dean?" a voice asked him, rasping in the darkness of the tent. "Why?"

Andy stepped out of the shadows, most of his face burned away. Dean sucked in a ragged breath. This couldn't be happening.

The tent dissolved into nothingness, just a blank grey fog around him and Andy.

"Why did you do it? Why did you get me killed?"

"Andy…" Dean whimpered.

The other man stepped closer, flakes of burned skin falling from his arm as he reached out for Dean. "Why, Dean? Why?"

"Fuck. You aren't real. This isn't real. It's not real." He covered his face with his hands, backing away slowly.

A hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, and it burned. He looked down at Andy's burnt hand gripping his wrist and a feeling like fire swept up his arm, his hands blistered and bled, and he started screaming. Screaming and screaming and screaming and someone was calling his name…

"DEAN!"

Dean shot up in the bed, sweat pouring from his brow and his chest heaving. The light was on, and Cas was there, pulling him into his arms, holding him tightly and whispering "it's ok, it's ok, you're ok," over and over again.

He was shaking, there were tears streaming down his face, but Cas was there. Cas was holding him and he was ok, he was safe.

"Fuck…" he whimpered, closing his eyes and shaking his head, trying desperately to push away the nightmare.

"It's ok. It's ok, Dean. I'm here, and you're safe. It's ok. Pamela said this might still happen sometimes."

"That was…horrible. I've never…god." Dean shuddered, and Cas tightened his already tight hold on him.

"It's ok."

"Cas…I don't. Fuck, that was one of the worst ones I've ever had."

"We should call Pamela."

"No, it can wait. It's the middle of the night, but yeah, I'm going to need to…that was horrible." He shuddered again. "I dreamt…I dreamt about Andy. He was all burnt and asking me why I let him get killed." Dean choked back a sob, but the tears still rolled freely down his cheeks. "Was awful, Cas."

His husband pulled him down on the bed, rolling Dean onto his side. He settled in behind him, wrapping his arm tight around Dean's waist. Dean burrowed backwards into Cas's comforting warmth. His throat hurt from fighting back the sobs that wanted out. Cas rubbed his belly, and kissed his neck.

"It's ok, you know? You don't have to hold back. It's ok to cry."

"I'm ok," Dean sniffled. "Just hold me, k?" Cas tightened the grip around his waist.

"Like I would ever let you go."

They laid like that for awhile, Dean the little spoon to Cas's big spoon. It was comfortable, and comforting and just what he needed.

"Dean," Cas said eventually, "you know you're not to blame for Andy's death, right?"

Dean sighed, rolling to face Cas. "I want to believe it. I do. And Pamela's worked so long with me to learn to let the guilt go…" To his dismay, he felt the tears starting again, pricking at the back of his eyelids. "I want to let it go, Cas. I do. I just…"

Cas pulled him as close as he could, and Dean laid his head against his husband's chest. The tears flowed freely and his body shook with the sobs he was still holding back.

"Let it out, Dean," Cas whispered. "Let it go."

"I feel so…god…Cas," Dean's voice broke as the first sob wrenched itself from his throat, and the tears flowed faster, hot streams of wetness soaking Cas's tee. "Sometimes…I just…I hate myself. I hate that I'm still here…that I have such a good life…it's not fair. It's not fair." Dean was crying, sobbing into Cas's chest, and Cas was holding him close and rubbing his back.

"It's ok. It's not your fault. And we're definitely calling Pamela first thing in the morning."

Dean nodded, too choked up to say anything else. Cas kissed his forehead and rocked him slightly. "It's ok, baby. It's ok."

He eventually calmed down, wrapped in Cas's arms. He rolled over, letting Cas make him the little spoon once again.

"It's no wonder, Dean. You've been working yourself to the bone with the expansion, and I know you haven't been sleeping enough, you haven't been eating enough. You've been so worked up about Adam's wedding and Ben leaving for college. It's no wonder. You're sleeping in tomorrow, if I have to tie you to this bed."

"Have work, Cas."

"It's Saturday. You can go in late. Or not at all. You're sleeping in dammit."

Dean nodded, settling back into Cas's arms. He finally felt tired again, felt himself drifting away.

"I love you, Dean. I love you so much."

"Love you too," he murmured, drifting off to the sound of Cas singing  _La Vie en Rose_  in his ear, safe in his husband's arms, far, far away from Purgatory.

 


	16. Doing Something Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's hubby came home from his Reserves weekend in his dress uniform and it spawned this.   
> Let's just say, me and Cas gots the same problem.

_August 8, 2015_

The Saturday before Adam's wedding, Castiel found Dean buried deep in the back of the closet in their bedroom.

He and Castiel had decided it was time to clean out the house, get rid of clothes and things they didn't need any more. Dean was sitting on the floor in there, an old shoe box in his lap. There was a picture in his hand, but Castiel couldn't see it clearly from where he stood at the armoire, pulling out old dress shirts and pants for Goodwill.

There was a wistful expression on Dean's face as he stared at the photo in his hands.

Laying a shirt on their bed, Castiel moved into the closet, sitting down beside Dean on the floor. He looked over at the picture.

A grinning Dean was in a dusty looking set of camo pants, a matching shirt and heavy looking vest, and a helmet with huge goggles strapped to it sat on his head. He was holding a rifle of some sort, and was grinning, sandwiched between two men, one of whom Castiel immediately recognized as Benny, despite the dark sunglasses that man had on. The guy on Dean's right was a little shorter, but wore a huge grin as well.

"Is that Andy?" Castiel asked quietly.

"Yeah," Dean said softly. "'bout a month before…" he trailed off.

"You should frame that. Hang it up somewhere."

"I don't…I don't know." Dean slid the picture back into the box, put the lid on, and slid it back into its place on the floor.

"That dream's still bothering you, isn't it?"

Dean nodded, pulling himself to his feet. He didn't say anything else, and Castiel stood as well.

"Want some help in here?"

"Yeah," he replied, likely grateful for the change of subject. "There's a bunch of stuff in here that's old and I don't wear anymore. If you ain't seen it on me within the last year or so, pull it out."

"Ok." They worked in silence for a while, until Castiel came across something he'd definitely never seen Dean in before. "Whoa. This is…this is  _amazing_." He held up the hanger for Dean to see.

His husband snorted derisively and stepped out of the closet. "Thought I got rid of that damn thing."

"Why would you do that?" Castiel held up the olive green uniform, admiring all the ribbons and badges, the name  _Winchester_  in neat block engraving on the black nameplate, and the yellow sergeant's stripes on the sleeves. He brought it out of the closet, slipping the plastic bag off the hanger, and laying the uniform out on the bed with reverence.

"Tell me what all these mean?" he asked, pointing to the ribbons neatly stacked on the left side of the jacket.

Dean sighed.

"Please?"

Shaking his head, Dean came back over to the bed where the uniform was laying. He started pointing to individual ribbons while naming them. "Army Commendation, Global War on Terrorism, Afghanistan Campaign, Iraq, National Defense, Army Achievement, Army Service, and seriously, do we really have to do this? Can we just put the damn thing back in the closet?"

"What's this one?" Castiel pointed to a red, white and blue ribbon with a silver "V" in the center.

"Silver Star," Dean mumbled.

"A Silver Star? Dean, I've watched enough military movies to know that's important. And this one's a Purple Heart, right? What's the little leaf thing?"

"Means I was wounded more than once, and Cas, put that damn thing away already."

Castiel ignored him, still studying the jacket. "This means you were Infantry right? This rifle with the blue behind it and the wreaths? And Expert Marksman, that's not surprising. Damn, really wish I could have seen you in this. Bet you looked damn good in it."

That caught Dean's attention, and he looked up from the shirts he was sorting. He chuckled. "Yeah. I did. Got me a lot of dates."

"Would you try it on for me? Just once? I swear I'll never ask you again."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Just the jacket? Please?"

"No."

"Dean…"

"No. If I'm putting that thing on, I'm putting the whole thing on. And you can take a picture or something."

Castiel smiled, as Dean started pulling off his jeans.

"Go away, I'll call you when I'm done. Go find the damn camera or something."

He went downstairs to give Dean his space to change, finding the camera on the desk in the office. He made sure it had fresh batteries, then grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge. He had a feeling Dean might need one.

Castiel hoped that maybe Dean could look on his Army memories a little more fondly after today. His husband was a decorated veteran, and Castiel was beyond proud, and thought Dean should be too, but he did understand why Dean struggled with his service memories.

He was also going to get that picture out of the shoebox and frame it for him.

"C'mon up," Dean yelled down a moment later, and Castiel tried not to trip up the stairs in his urgency.

Dean stood just inside the room, looking at himself in the armoire mirror. His expression was guarded, as he turned to study his reflection.

The jacket fit perfectly, the pants had an incredible sharp crease and his shoes were mirror shined. He had on a pristine white shirt underneath and a perfectly tied black tie. There was a black beret perched on his head. The olive color of the uniform made his eyes look even greener than normal.

All in all…his husband looked  _hot_.

He turned to face Castiel, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Holy hell," Castiel murmured. "I bet you did get a lot of dates in that thing."

Dean blushed. "Ok, ok, take your damn picture, so I can take it off already."

Castiel smiled again, setting the beers down on the dresser. "Smile," he said playfully.

He didn't smile. Dean straightened his back, straightened his arms, and put his feet in a V shape. "Staff Sergeant Winchester reporting as ordered, sir," he stated forcefully.

Castiel went weak in the knees and almost dropped the camera. He recovered quickly, and managed to snap a few pictures. "Jesus," he muttered, setting the camera on the dresser, "I think I just acquired a uniform kink."

Dean grinned, crossing the room to him in three long strides. He crowded Castiel against the dresser. Castiel could feel the ribbons and medals on the uniform pushing against his tee. He reached up to toy with the black tie around Dean's neck.

"Uniform kink, huh?" Dean ducked his head, running his nose along Castiel's jaw.

"Mmhmm."

Dean chuckled. "Might just have to keep this thing after all," he smirked, pulling Castiel in for a scorching kiss.

They very carefully picked it up off the floor and put it back on the hanger later. Much later.

 


	17. In Formal Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh crap. Plot. Eeek!

_August 15, 2015_

"You look good, man. You look great. You ready?"

Adam shrugged into his jacket and Dean reached out to straighten his boutonniere.

"Yeah, man, I'm good. I'm really good." He took a sip from the glass of champagne Sam handed him. "I'm good. Really. Really really good."

Sam and Dean both laughed and Adam glared at them.

"I'm just a little nervous, ok? Assholes."

"Ooh cussing in a church. Nice one, little bro," Sam smirked.

"I hate both of you."

"No you don't," Dean said with a grin. He looked in the mirror again, adjusting his bowtie. "You love us. You know it."

"Actually, I do. A lot. And there's a couple of things I need to tell you guys."

Dean turned back around. "Is everything ok?" He and Sam both sank into the chairs Adam indicated.

"Yeah, just I wanted to tell you guys in private. When Madison and I are introduced at the end of the wedding, it's not going to be Mr. and Mrs. Milligan. I legally changed my last name to Winchester about a week ago. I really…I thought about it, a really long time, and I think my mom would have approved, and I just…I needed to do it. My legal name is Adam Milligan Winchester. So we'll be Mr. and Mrs. Winchester. I hope that's ok."

"Dude," Sam sputtered, "it's more than ok, it's great! That's amazing!"

"Yeah, I mean you were our brother either way, just this, it's…man it's like all official now. Dad would be so proud. Damn man. That's…that's just awesome," Dean smiled.

"Cool," Adam sighed, relief evident on his face. "I thought you'd be mad or annoyed or something."

"What?"

"Why would we feel that way, Adam, you're our brother, and have as much right to that name as we do," Sam said firmly.

"Ok. Awesome. Ok." Adam smiled. "There's one more thing too though. Mads and I, we're getting married pretty quick here, and I think her parents have already figured it out, and the thing was, we wanted to get married anyway, just moved it up is all and..."

Dean chuckled. "She's pregnant, right?"

Adam's jaw dropped. "How did you…how did you know?"

"She works for me dude. You think I didn't notice the frequent bathroom dashes? I've known for about a month now buddy."

"Didn't tell me!" Sam groused.

"Wasn't my news to tell. Congrats, Adam. I'm so proud of you." He stood and pulled the younger man into a hug. Sam joined them.

"Well, while we're sharing big news…Jess is pregnant too. About two months."

Adam laughed. "Madison is about three months. Damn. Everybody's having babies."

"Yeah," Dean said quietly. "Anna too. Babies everywhere." He pulled out of his brothers' arms, both of them excitedly talking about how the women had broken the news. He picked up the champagne bottle and poured himself another glass, draining it quickly.

Three new babies joining the extended Winchester clan.

He knew he should be excited, but it hurt. He and Cas had finally had the talk about kids and Cas had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he didn't want kids.

And Dean was trying to be ok with it, he really was, after all, he was in his mid-thirties, and Cas would be forty in September, and they were both so incredibly busy with work, so yeah, he got it. And he had Ben, and Mari loved him and he saw her plenty…

It hurt. It did. And he tried to push it away, and throw himself into work, and the show and the expansion, and Dean believed that in time, he'd get used to the idea.

But it still hurt.

"Hey, it's time," Bobby said, sticking his head in the door. "You boys better get out there."

Adam took a deep breath, and headed out the door. Dean was on his way out, and Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"You ok?"

"That obvious?"

"Kinda."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm happy for you Sammy. I really am." Sam opened his mouth to say something else, but Dean cut him off. "C'mon, let's go get Adam married off."

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right? You would?"

"Yeah, Sammy, I would. I'm ok. Ok?"

Sam frowned, but nodded anyway, and followed Dean out the door.

* * *

"Are you ok?" Castiel asked Dean after the wedding. His husband had seemed distracted throughout most of it, but he didn't think anyone noticed but him.

Dean looked amazing, in a beautifully cut black tux. They were in the Impala, on their way to the reception, and Dean still looked totally distracted as he stared out the window at a stop light.

"Yeah, I'm good."

He went back to staring out the window, not noticing that the light changed, and jumping when the car behind him honked.

"You seem…distracted."

Dean sighed, eyes focused on the road. "Madison and Jess are both pregnant."

"Well, that's great!"

His husband didn't answer.

Oh.

"Dean," he began.

"I'm good, Cas. I'm dealing with it and I'm good. I don't want to talk about it, I just want to enjoy my brother's wedding and I just, I don't want to talk about. Ok?"

"Ok."

Dammit. He knew Dean was still upset. He wished he could make his husband understand. He was too old for kids and their life was so hectic now. They had no business even attempting to raise a child. Both of them had busy and demanding careers, and they'd probably have to move to a bigger house.

But he knew Dean was hurting. Dean loved kids and had always hoped to have more beyond Ben, but it just…Castiel didn't want any. And he didn't think it was a good idea to bring children into a marriage when one partner absolutely didn't want children.

So maybe he was being a little selfish. Still, he knew Dean would grow used to the idea in time. And by the time they got to the reception hall, Dean seemed to be feeling a little better, holding the car door open for Castiel, then pulling him into a sweet kiss. When they pulled apart, Castiel smiled, reaching up to straighten Dean's bowtie.

"You look so nice."

"Like a male model?"

Castiel chuckled, "Always. You're too hot for your own good. No one will be looking at the bride."

Dean grinned and blushed. "I doubt that."

"Well I won't be looking at the bride."

He smiled again, green eyes sparkling. "I love you, Cas."

"Love you too, baby."

Dean reached for his hand, and they walked into the hall together.


	18. Dancing

_August 15, 2015_

"So, I can stand here and brag that I am completely and totally responsible for this couple."

A polite titter of laughter followed Dean's words and his grin grew wider.

"No, I'm serious. See, I needed a new mechanic. So I put an ad out, and I get a resume that really stands out. M. Jones, Master ASE, decent amount of shop time. Then, this incredibly hot chick walks into my shop and cold diagnoses a '71 Challenger. Even caught something me and my other mechanic had totally missed. I hired Madison on the spot. Now, Adam's my brother of course, and I have barbecues all the time and him and Mads just happened to be at the same one and next thing I know, they're engaged. So, I can one hundred percent take responsibility for this marriage. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it."

More laughter, a little more robust that time, and Dean grinned over at his brother and his new sister in law.

"I'm insanely happy for them. Madison became family the minute she walked into my shop. She's sweet, and kind, and wonderful, and she's perfect for Adam. I think they're going to be happy together for the rest of their lives, and I'm happy all three of us Winchester guys found such great spouses. We're all three happy, and I'm so grateful for that.

"So, let's toast Adam and Madison, to many happy years!" Dean raised his glass, and the rest of their friends and family did as well. He caught Cas's eyes over the rim of his glass and smiled.

God he loved that man.

The music started up, and Adam led Madison out to the dance floor for their first dance, John Mayer's  _A Face to Call Home_.

They danced, just the two of them, Madison's dark hair tumbling in thick curls down her back. Adam smiled down at her, as happy as Dean had ever seen him. Other couples starting joining them on the dance floor, Sam with Jess, and Madison's Mom and Dad, Bobby and Ellen, Madison's older sister and her husband, and then, to Dean's surprise, Charlie and Jo.

So they  _were_  dating! Dean had thought they must be, Charlie was practically living next door with Jo now, but this was their official first outing, he supposed, and as he watched, Jo leaned forward and kissed the pretty red head on the lips.

Dean couldn't help but grin.

"Well, now, I was wondering when they would make it official," Cas murmured, slipping his hand into Dean's.

"They look good together."

"Yes, they look very happy. I'm happy for them."

"Me, too."

The music changed, Sinatra's  _I've Got You Under My Skin_ , and Cas smiled up at Dean. "Dance with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he grinned.

Dean let Cas lead him out to the floor, content to let Cas lead on the dance floor as well. He wrapped an arm around Cas's waist, and Cas pulled their joined hands to his chest.

"Remember the first time we danced to this? In Napa? You were blushing so hard, I think I embarrassed you terribly."

"It wasn't that bad. Once I got used to it at any rate," Dean chuckled.

"Have I told you how incredible you look today? I love it when you're all dressed up."

"Might've mentioned it a time or two. You look damn good yourself."

"Mmm. Can't wait to take you out of that tux later."

Dean smiled and laid his head on Cas's shoulder. "I can't wait either. Love you, Cas."

"Love you too. I'm damn happy to have you, you know that right?"

"Yeah. I do. The feeling is incredibly mutual."

They danced together for a few more songs, then it was time to cut the cake and throw the bouquet and garter. Dean raised his eyebrows when Ben managed to snag the garter, and then laughed heartily when Madison's other sister caught the bouquet.

Ben's face was about as red as it could get, but he was smiling and laughing by the end of their dance.

They sent the happy couple off with waves and well-wishes, then a slightly drunk Dean handed Cas the keys to the Impala.

It was well after ten when they finally made it home, and Cas made good on his promise to peel Dean out of his tux, the pieces hitting the floor as they made their way into bed. Cas pushed Dean back onto bed and stripped away the rest of his own suit.

"Remember that night in Napa? The first time we danced?"

"Like I'd ever forget. I told you I loved you that night. Was a pretty big step for me," Dean smiled.

"I know. I knew how hard it was for you to let go and trust me like that. I've never forgotten it." Cas crawled up the bed, kissing Dean's body on the way up, slowly making his way up the bed to lay face to face with Dean. "You know, I fall in love with you a little more every day?"

Dean nodded. "I can definitely say the same. You make me so damn happy Cas."

"You make me happy too. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"No, you've got it all wrong. You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"

Cas laughed, then kissed him silly. "Guess we're just the best things that happened to each other. Can we agree on that?"

"Sure," Dean smiled. "I can live with that."


	19. Cooking/Baking

_August 16, 2015_

The Sunday after Adam's wedding found Dean, Castiel, and Ben in the kitchen, making a batch of chocolate chip cookies for Ben to take on his flight to San Francisco the next day.

The day his husband had been dreading had finally arrived. Ben would be leaving for Stanford the following morning.

Dean was very quietly measuring ingredients while Ben talked a mile a minute about his new roommate and his dorms and the Stanford baseball team and the connections Sam had with the faculty. He was cheerful and his eyes, so much like Dean's, were sparkling and bright.

His husband was sinking, Castiel could see it, barely holding it together as he smiled and nodded in the right places, dying a little inside while he kept up a happy front for Ben's sake. He turned on the mixer, beating the butter and sugar while Ben ate a handful of chocolate chips.

He wasn't surprised Dean was a wreck. Nothing mattered more to him than family, and this was his son, his only child. Dean was used to seeing Ben every few days, and now, he would be going  _weeks_  without seeing him at all.

Castiel turned the oven on, then pulled out some cooling racks, lining them up along the counter.

"Gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back," Ben announced.

"Thanks for sharing," Castiel said wryly, earning him a smirk-y grin from his stepson. He turned to Dean after Ben shut the door behind him. "How you holding up, Dean?"

Dean sighed, watching eggs slide out of a bowl and into the mixer. "I've been better."

Stepping forward, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. "It's going to be ok, you're going to be ok."

Dean leaned back into the hug. "I know. I'm gonna keep it together. He's going to be fine, I know this. I just…I'm not ready. I'm not ready for him to go. He's still so damn young…" Dean dropped a cup of flour into the mixer, cursing as a cloud of white powder puffed out of the bowl and onto the counter.

"Dean." Castiel reached forward and shut off the mixer. "Look at me." He turned Dean around to face him, cupping his chin in his hand and tilting his face up. "It's going to be ok. I swear it will."

"My brain keeps telling me that, but, dammit, that's my son. And I'm not…I don't want…" He turned back around and grabbed a sponge, wiping at the floury countertop. "I don't want him to think I'm not proud, but dammit, how I am supposed to do this? How am I just supposed to let him go and be a man…god, I'm such a fucking child about this shit."

"I don't think it's childish at all. You are very family oriented and happiest when your family is around you. The idea of letting Ben leave is killing you. But you've got to pull it together. You don't want to send him off thinking you're angry or upset with him."

Dean swiped at the counter again, fingers tightly clenched around the sponge. "I'm not angry. I'm not upset, not with him, but Cas, fuck, I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to deal with this!" Dean hissed, keeping his voice low.

"You just bury it and be happy and keep it together, and we'll deal with it tomorrow. Take the day off, we'll go with Lisa and Vic to KC to drop Ben off, and then we'll spend the day together." Castiel turned the mixer back on the lowest speed, adding the flour slowly. Dean backed up and leaned up against the other counter, folding his arms over his chest.

"I can't take the day off. I've got to get back after KC. There's too much going on."

"Dean," Castiel began.

"No, I can't. I've got people coming tomorrow to talk about the new section, and I've got a car that I personally need to oversee. I can't take off."

Castiel finished mixing the cookie dough, shut the mixer off, and turned to face Dean. "We're going to talk about this. You're working entirely too much, and I never see you anymore."

"And what do you want me to do about that? It's  _my_  business, I  _have_  to be there!"

"But it's too much! You never take a minute to slow down. You work twelve to fourteen hour shifts seven days a week. You went in this morning, for god's sake. You live there. You're not filming right now, and I know the expansion is taking up a lot of time, but babe, you're going to work yourself to death."

"No, this is just how…" the toilet flushed, and Dean sighed and wiped a hand down his face. "We'll talk about this later. But you're right, I need to be here for Ben right now. Ok?"

"Ok. But we  _are_  going to talk about this, ok?"

"Yes," Dean said quietly, as he pulled a cookie sheet out. The bathroom door opened, and Ben reemerged, a big grin on his face.

"I can't eat the cookies if we don't bake 'em, Dad."

Dean smiled, a little forced, but there just the same. "So bake some cookies, punk. Cas and I made the dough, you can get the little ice cream scoop thing."

Ben scooped a hunk of dough out of the bowl and stuck in his mouth, moaning happily. "Never mind, I'll just eat the dough."

Chuckling, Castiel took the bowl from him. "We're not sending you off to Stanford with botulism. That would be a hell of way to start your college career."

Throwing his head back, Ben laughed loudly. "You're right, Cas, that would not be cool." He used the scoop to make little rounds of dough on the cookie sheet.

"That looks good," Dean said quietly, taking the sheet and putting it in the oven. "Make more."

They made four dozen total, Dean carefully packing them into a container when they were cool, which Ben then slid into his carry on. Lisa and Vic would be swinging by in the morning, and they all planned on driving up to KC together.

When they were done, Dean grabbed a beer and disappeared out the back door.

Castiel started clean up, and Ben offered to help. "No, go out back and sit with your old man, kiddo. He's not handling this so well."

"I noticed," Ben frowned. "He's badass and all, but I know him…he's not happy. He's not mad at me, is he?"

"Not in the least," Castiel smiled, moving the mixing bowl into the sink. "He's insanely proud, but he's sentimental, and the idea of you leaving makes him incredibly sad. But don't ever doubt how proud he is of you." Shutting off the water, Castiel turned to face Ben. "I know you aren't mine, and you've only known me for a couple of years, but I love you like a son, Ben. I'm proud of you too."

Ben smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"So I have something for you to take with you." Castiel turned, reaching up into the cabinet behind him to grab a small box, which he handed to Ben.

"Dude, Cas, you didn't have to do this."

"I know. I wanted to. Open it."

With another grin, Ben opened the box lid. There was a watch inside. It was a gold face, with a small diamond up near the twelve, and shiny black hands. "Dude. It's a Bulova. These are really great watches!"

"It was my dad's," Castiel told him, "he gave it to me when I left for New York, and grown-up life. And I'm giving it to you. Because you  _are_  my son."

"Wow, Cas, I don't…I don't know what to say." His eyes welled, and Ben gave Castiel a watery smile, so much like Dean's it almost physically hurt to see.

"You don't have to say anything."

Ben surprised him by throwing himself into Castiel's arms, hugging his stepfather tightly. "Thanks Cas. I love it. I love you."

"I love you too, kiddo," Castiel replied, his own voice a little choked. "And I'm so proud of you."

* * *

Dean was sitting at the bottom of the porch, nursing a beer and staring out into the yard when Ben found him.

His son sat down beside him on the bottom step. Dean looked over at the beer in his hand. "Beer? You're eighteen, kiddo."

"Cas said one wouldn't hurt me."

"Yeah, he's probably right. He usually is."

Ben chuckled, and took a swig of his beer.

"I got some stuff for you to take with you." Dean pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. "There's a chunk of cash in there, and a Visa card. It has almost no limit, and it's in your name. It's for emergencies, but you never ask for anything, and if you just want a pizza or something, just put it on the card. Between me and Cas, we can afford it."

"Dad…"

"Exactly. Dad. This is my job, Ben-o, taking care of you. As soon as they say you can have a car, let me know. Cas and I will take a couple days and drive the Chevelle out."

"Ok," Ben smiled.

Dean took a long drag on the bottle, finishing off the beer.

"Are you ok, Dad? I mean…you're gonna be ok with this right? Me leaving? It's not like I'm going forever."

"I'm ok. Or I will be. Yeah, I'm not happy that you're going…but don't for a minute think that I'm not happy with you. I can't even tell you how proud I am. You got a full ride to one of the best schools in the country. I'm ridiculously proud of you. I'm just…just a silly old man I guess."

"Ok, first of all. You're so not old. And you're not silly. Do you know how lucky I am to have the four of you? You, Cas, Mom and Vic? Not to mention Uncle Sam, Uncle Adam, Aunt Jess, Aunt Jo, and Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen? You brought me up to believe nothing is more important than family. And I'd be more upset if you weren't acting like this. You're not silly because you care."

Dammit. That did it. A tear rolled down Dean's cheek. He couldn't say anything, his throat too tight to get out any words at all.

Ben seemed to understand, scooting closer on the step and throwing his arm over Dean's shoulder. "I love you, Dad. I'm proud to be your son."

He didn't say anything. He couldn't get a damn thing out. But Dean wrapped his arms tight around his boy, hugging him back.


	20. Side by Side in Battle

_September 5, 2015_

"As your team captain…"

"You're not the captain! Cas and Charlie are the captains!"

"What?" Dean glared at Sam. "Who decided that?"

"They planned this weekend. And you're creepy on a power trip," Jo added.

"Mmm, indeed," Sam agreed.

"I'm the one with the actual military experience, y'know."

"'xactly. Tha's why you an' I don' get to be in charge, brotha. Ain't fair to the rest." Benny grinned at him. "'sides, we'll kick their asses on the field righ'?"

"Whatever! I'm good with guns too, y'know!" Charlie yelled loudly, which led to Jo backing her up, and Sam protesting everything.

It was a bright, beautiful day in Kansas, and the six of them had descended on a paint ball park just north of Lawrence.

Castiel had decided Dean was overworking himself again, and had gotten with Charlie and the others to plan an activity they knew he wouldn't turn down. Off course, they hadn't expected that the minute it was mentioned to Dean that he would drag them all off to Cabela's to get properly outfitted.

Everyone had new, state of the art paintball guns and the latest and greatest armor and goggles. Dean had spared no expense. In his mind, if they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. Benny and Dean had busted out their old desert camos for the occasion, along with a bunch of their other battle gear. Dean thought they both looked impressive. Charlie and Jo had laughed at them.

Cas was standing nearby, watching Sam, Benny, Jo, and Charlie argue, amusement on his face. "So we should probably divide up, right? Unless you four want to stand here and argue all day."

"Yup," Charlie smiled, "I get to pick first. Jo!"

Jo smiled and trotted to Charlie's side, rewarding her girlfriend with a kiss.

"And I want Dean, of course," Cas smiled.

"Well, I want Benny. I need some experience on my team."

"Hey!" Jo and Sam yelled in unison.

"I have experience!"

"Sure you do Sasquatch, so come be on the cool kids team."

"Shuddup, Winchester, I'm gonna kick your ass," Benny drawled.

Cas raised his hands to silence them before another argument started. "Ok, ok, let's get out there, already."

A few minutes later, and the six of them had spread out. Benny and the girls headed in one direction; Cas, Dean, and Sam in the other.

"Ok. We need to find a place to set up a defense. Benny's gonna go for secret squirrel tactics. He's going to try and pick us off one by one. We need to be prepared for that."

Sam grunted. "Whatever, Sgt. Winchester."

"Hey, don't discount my experience, bitch!"

"Oh, you can take your experience and shove it up your ass, jerk!"

They crested a hill, arguing all the while, and Castiel rolled his eyes. There was a soft smack sound, and Sam looked down in surprise.

A blob of red paint had landed dead in the middle of his chest. "Crap," he whispered, "I'm dead already."

"Hit the deck!" Dean yelled, shoving Cas behind a tree. Sam dropped to the ground, the agreed upon procedure for a fatal hit. Dean dove behind the tree Cas was hiding behind, wincing as a flurry of paintballs smacked against the other side.

"Dammit, we're pinned down."

"So they win this round. No biggie," Cas said nonchalantly.

"Dude…"

"Taking it too seriously, Dean. It's just a game."

"Yeah, tell that to the mad Cajun out there." He looked down at Cas, who had his arms folded across his chest and was squinting up at him. "We need to move. C'mon."

"Are we just going to leave Sam there?"

Dean peaked out from around the tree. Sam was laying on his stomach, fooling around with his phone. "He's good. C'mon."

Grabbing Cas's hand, he pulled him away from the tree, quickly moving them down the other side of the hill. There was a concrete pipe not far away, and Dean decided that would be a good place to make a stand. "Get in," he said, shoving Cas at it. Dean followed him, crawling into the pipe.

The other open end was completely blocked, so they only needed to defend the one end.

"You know, it's very admirable that you want to defend my honor or whatever, but it is just a game, and I would actually like to get a few shots off."

"Ssssh, they'll hear us," Dean murmured.

Cas sighed huffily behind him, but Dean barely noticed. He was busy tracking movement through the scope of his paintball rifle.

A flash of red hair, and Dean grinned. Charlie was walking right into his sites, and just behind her, Jo. Dean focused his breathing, waiting until the perfect moment.

He was just about to pop off a round and take Charlie down when his goggles were coated with red paint and the sound of someone whistling filled the air.

"Sonuvabitch! He got me!" He could hear Benny laughing, as he laid on his belly in front of the concrete tube.

"He got me too," Cas chuckled. "You're good, Lafitte!" he yelled out into the clearing.

"Score one round for the Crazy Cajuns!" Benny chortled.

"We are not calling ourselves that! Although that was a good tactic," Charlie grinned, holding her fist up for Benny to bump.

"Dammit." Dean grumbled. "That was pathetic."

"Well, that's what you get for taking it too seriously."

"Shut up, Sam."

"You  _are_  taking it too seriously. It's just a game, Dean. You've been stressed out with work. I brought you up here to blow off steam, not get more worked up," Cas said quietly.

"What's the point of doing this if you're not going to take it seriously?" Dean yelled.

"Whoa, dude, chill," Charlie said, plopping down to sit cross legged on the ground.

"Fine. Fine! Forget it. I'm done." And with that Dean spun around and stalked off the field. He walked fast, ignoring the voices behind him yelling for him to come back, and didn't stop until he got to the Impala.

It was then that he realized that Cas had the keys. Growling under his breath, he sat down on the ground and leaned back against the driver's door.

"That was entertaining," Cas said drily.

"Leave me alone," Dean muttered.

"I'd really rather not. Clearly, I failed at helping you relax."

"I woulda been if people had just played the damn game right."

Castiel sighed, "emphasis on game. It's a game, Dean." He shifted on the ground next to him. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm not. I'm not lying." Dean sighed. "Look, you can catch a ride with one of them. I just want to go home, ok?" He dug his fingers into Cas's pants and pulled out his keys. "I'll see you at home."

"Dean, come on."

He unlocked the door, tossed his paintball gun inside, and climbed in. "Just let me go, Cas."

Cas sighed, but didn't say anything else, and let Dean shut the door. He fired up the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot and didn't look back.

Dean was about fifteen minutes away when he realized how monumentally stupid and childish he was being, and twenty minutes after that, he was pulling back into the parking lot. He grabbed his gun off the front seat, and ran back out onto the field.

Putting his tracking skills to good use, he found Jo quickly, shooting her in the back of the neck. She turned and saw him, grinned, and went down quietly when she saw the finger over his lips, silently shushing her.

Charlie went down just as easy.

He saw Benny put Sam down from across the field.

"I think we can take him down together," Cas whispered in his ear, and Dean almost howled in surprise. Cas leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Glad you came back," he said, kissing Dean on the neck.

"I'm sorry. I acted like an idiot," he murmured back.

"It's ok. Let's just take that arrogant punk out, ok?"

"You got it." Dean whispered his plan in Cas's ear, and his husband grinned.

Benny was heading for high ground, convinced he only had one more player to take out. Dean watched as he caught sight of Cas, sneaking back towards Sam. He watched as Benny raised the rifle, Cas in his crosshairs.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Dean said, barrel of his gun pointed right between Benny's shoulder blades. "You shoot my husband, I'm afraid I'll be forced to end you, friend."

Benny growled. "You damn punk. Tha' whole lil temper tantrum was some cute lil strategy."

"No, it was a real temper tantrum. I just decided it wasn't worth it."

"Ok, well you win this round then. Happy now?" Benny asked with a grin.

"Very."

"Good."

Cas walked across the field, swagger in his steps. "We make good team, Winchester."

Dean pulled him in, and kissed him long and hard. "We make the best team," Dean said happily, kissing him again.

 


	21. Bathing Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy this lovely offering of fluff...because the gloves come off in the next one.

* * *

_September 7, 2015_

Castiel stabbed at the ground beef in the pot with a wooden spoon. He was trying very hard not to get angry, but he was growing incredibly weary of Dean saying he'd be home at certain time and then not showing. Benny's truck was in the driveway across the street, and he knew Jo was home, as she'd brought over a piece of mis-delivered mail about twenty minutes prior.

Likely, Dean was alone at Winchester and Sons, doing some kind of work that could probably wait until the next day.

He was getting sick of this. Dean was working all the time, and there didn't seem to be any reason for it. He'd thrown himself into work to the point that Castiel was starting to believe Dean was avoiding him.

"I'll be home by six," he'd said, on his way out the door that morning. Now, it was well after seven, and still no Dean.

Castiel wasn't looking for a fight, really didn't want to have one at all, but he was very irritated by the time Dean showed up at quarter after nine. The shepherd's pie had been done for quite a while, and Castiel had eaten and cleaned up by that time, and settled on the couch with a beer, a single portion of dinner keeping warm in the oven.

"Hey, babe," Dean said tiredly as he closed the front door. He stepped inside the office for a moment to drop off his laptop bag, shuffled some papers around, then reappeared in the kitchen. "Something smells good."

"Dinner," Castiel said shortly.

"Man, I'm tired. I'll be glad when this expansion is done." He opened the oven door, grabbed an oven mitt, and pulled his dinner out. Peeling back the foil, Dean took a deep breath. "Dude, that smells good. Love your cooking."

"Would've probably have tasted better if you'd eaten it when it was actually done," Castiel groused, yanking his body off the couch.

"Probably right," Dean chuckled, but the chuckle turned into a dry cough. Dean banged on his own chest with his closed fist, grimacing.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked, as he made his way into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Dean wheezed. "Get me a glass of water?"

Nodding, Castiel pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap. Dean was still coughing when he handed it to him, and Castiel rubbed his back until the cough subsided.

"Ugh, that sucked ass," Dean groaned, taking the water from Castiel and taking a big gulp. "Must've gone down the wrong way, huh?"

"Yeah."

Dean finally looked at Castiel, really looked at him. "You're pissed with me," he said flatly.

"A bit."

"I had things I had to do."

"I feel like you're hiding from me."

Dean sighed. "No, it's not that. It's the combined problems of having two incredibly high end, celebrity jobs sitting in the shop and the damn expansion. During the day, I'm wandering the shop, overseeing the people working on the cars, and the construction workers. I just got Madison back, and she's throwing up all the damn time, and I'm probably going to have to fire a couple of the paint guys for stupid shit. Things just kinda suck right now." Dean sank into a stool at the breakfast bar.

"But you're killing yourself. You're not eating enough, you're not sleeping enough, and you're never home."

"I'm doing the best I can. I swear, Cas, I'm not avoiding you. I'm not mad at you." Dean took a few bites of his dinner, while Castiel grabbed a rag and started wiping down the already spotless granite countertop.

"I miss you," he said quietly, hoping he didn't sound like he was sulking.

"I miss you, too."

"It's only Monday. You worked all weekend. I'm…I just want to be with you, Dean. I miss you."

Dean pushed his plate away, and once again, he'd only eaten about a third of his meal. "I'll take this weekend off. I promise. We can go somewhere, or just stay here, and spend the weekend together. Ok?"

"Promise? I mean it, you promise? 'Cause I'll make some plans or something, but only if you're going to stick with it this time."

"I promise, Cas. I swear."

Castiel nodded, and reached for Dean's plate. "I wish you had eaten more."

"I'm sorry, babe. It's delicious, but I'm just not hungry."

"Ok." Castiel scraped the plate into the trash, rinsed it, and added it to the dishwasher with Dean's fork. He started the machine, then looked back at Dean.

His husband was staring off into space, green eyes slightly bloodshot. He was clearly exhausted, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. While he was watching him, Dean started coughing again. "I really don't like the sound of that," Castiel murmured, as he moved behind Dean to rub his back.

"I think it's just allergies. Probably nothing to worry about."

"Well, keep an eye on it, ok?" Dean nodded, as the cough subsided. He drained the rest of his water as Castiel rubbed his back some more, then leaned forward and kissed his neck. "Want to sit in the tub with me for a bit?"

"Oh god, that sounds great. Let me just take my boots off. I'll lock up and meet you up there."

"Ok," Castiel smiled, leaving another little kiss on Dean's neck.

Upstairs, in their spacious bathroom, Castiel started the water, dumping a healthy amount of lavender bath oil into the tub, hoping that maybe the lavender would help Dean sleep. He then lit several candles in the bathroom, then went out to the bedroom, pulling back the bed covers and lighting a few candles in there as well.

He flipped the switch on the little stereo they had in the bedroom, soft music pouring out of the speakers. Then he stripped, tossed his stuff in the hamper, and shut off the lights.

"Whoa, dark in here," Dean said a moment later, entering the room and shutting the door behind him.

Castiel stepped up behind him, sliding his arms around Dean's waist. "Not that dark," he murmured, nosing along Dean's jaw. His hands slipped down to Dean's belt, undoing the buckle with practiced hands. Dean leaned back against him, allowing Castiel to undress him.

He pulled Dean's belt from his black work pants, setting on the dresser behind them, then unzipped the fly. Pulling Dean's shirt out from the pants, he lifted it up and over Dean's head, dropping it into the hamper.

Dean hummed softly as Castiel swept his fingers down Dean's back, leaving a little trail of kisses down his spine. His hands settled on Dean's waist again, pushing his pants down. Dean stepped out of them easily.

"Damn, Cas, you're in a mood tonight, aren't you?" Dean rumbled, leaning his head back against Castiel's shoulder. He used that opportunity to gently bite Dean's exposed neck.

"I told you, I missed you."

"Mmm."

Castiel pulled Dean's boxers off, tossed them in the hamper, and took Dean by the hand, leading him to the bathroom. He shut off the taps on the already full tub, and stepped over the ledge. He sat first, and Dean stepped inside, settling down into the hot water and leaning back against Castiel's chest.

"Oh, god, I need this," Dean groaned, letting his eyes slip shut.

Castiel smiled down at the man in his arms, and kissed his scalp. He'd planned on washing him, but now, he found he'd be just as content to sit there and hold him. They sat quietly for a long time in the hot water, the lavender steam wafting through the bathroom, the flickering candles providing a soft light.

It was peaceful, and comforting, every muscle in Castiel's body relaxing, Dean warm and pliant in his arms.

"Sleepy," Dean murmured softly.

"We've been in here about half an hour. I was hoping it would make you tired. Want to go to bed?"

Dean nodded.

"Ok, sit forward so I can get out."

His husband complied, and Castiel got out first, wrapping himself in a large, fluffy towel, then unfolding one for Dean, who was now leaning back against the tub, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.

"Dean?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you asleep in the tub?"

"Mmhmm."

Castiel smiled. He was so cute, with the freckles and the long lashes, his cheeks flushed from the heat of the bath. A little bubble of contentment burbled up inside of him. "My love, you can't sleep in the tub. The water will get cold. C'mon, I've got a towel. Time to get out."

Dean let Castiel pull him out, and pat him dry. He let Castiel tuck him into the sheets, rolling onto his side as he pulled the blankets up over his shoulder.

Castiel blew out the candles, and drained the tub, hung up their towels, and then crawled in beside Dean.

"Love you," Dean whispered, snuggling into Castiel's shoulder the second the other man's head hit the pillow.

He smiled, and kissed Dean's forehead. "I love you, too. Sleep well."


	22. Arguing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember...it's always darkest before the dawn.

_September 10, 2015_

"What the ever loving fuck are you still doing here? It's after ten!"

Jo's voice cut through the fog of Dean's sluggish brain as he startled awake and looked up her. "The fuck?" he mumbled, wiping drool of his cheek and chin.

"You're here, sleeping at your desk, when you could be at home with a hot meal and your husband? Seriously, what is your deal, Dean? I left five hours ago! And I wouldn't have come back if my phone wasn't here." She held up the pink iPhone. "And Cas would like to know why you aren't answering yours."

He rooted around under stacks of paperwork until he found his own unresponsive phone. "It's dead." Dean held up the blank phone.

"I know for a fact you have a charger in your desk drawer." Jo had her arms crossed and she flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Get your ass home, Dean. Why are you hiding at work anyway?"

"I'm not hiding," he said irritably, pulling himself to his feet. "I just had shit to get done that didn't get done during the day."

"Liar."

"Jo…"

"No, something is up with you. I don't know what it is. But you hide in this damn office all day, and then you're still here when the rest of us are long gone? Something's up with you."

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just so behin…" Dean coughed, took a deep breath and held it. He really did not want to start coughing again. "I'm behind, so I was staying to get some stuff don…" The coughing took him by surprise, doubling him over and bringing tears to his eyes. When it was finally over, his chest ached and there were stars in his vision.

Jo put a hand on his back. "What was that?" she asked worriedly.

"Stupid allergies," he gasped. "Ugh. I gotta go home." He shoved some papers into his bag, not really looking to see what they were.

"Go, I'll lock up. And call the doctor tomorrow!"

"Just allergies," he mumbled on his way out the door.

The drive home, short as it was, drained him, and by the time he pushed his front door open, Dean was ready to drop.

The entire downstairs was dark, and Dean was a bit surprised. It was only ten-thirty. He'd thought Cas would still be up. He set his keys and his laptop bag in the office, sat on the bench and unlaced his boots, tucking them under the bench when he was done.

He poked through the covered dishes in the fridge, but nothing appealed to him. He had zero appetite anyway.

A very exhausted Winchester made his way up the steps, his feet dragging with every step, dread increasing the closer he got to his bedroom. He had a sinking feeling that not only was Cas still awake, but that he was going to hear it from his husband.

Especially when he told him that he was definitely going to have to work that weekend.

Dean sighed and pushed open the door.

Castiel was sitting up in bed, reading glasses on, and some Dan Brown hardback open in his lap. He wasn't reading. Dean could tell, because he was staring at the page, blue eyes not moving.

Oh fuck. He was definitely in trouble.

"I lost track of time, Cas. I fell asleep at my desk. I'm sorry."

Cas said nothing.

"OK, I get it, you're pissed. I'm sorry."

"Fine." Cas closed the book, removed his reading glasses and set them both on the nightstand.

Dean relaxed a tiny bit, and started pulling off his clothes. He felt the urge to cough, and held his breath until it passed.

"You're still taking the weekend off, correct?"

Dean could feel Cas's eyes on his back, and he turned to face him. "About that…"

"Dean! You promised, dammit!"

"I know, but I fired some paint guys, and I have to interview some people and they could only come in Saturday and Sunday and I'm so behind on my paperwork…" He felt another cough brewing, and held his breath again.

"You know, if I didn't know better, didn't know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were at that damn garage every night, I'd think you were cheating on me," Cas growled, eyes dancing with fury.

"Oh, come on, don't be ridiculous."

"You don't think that's what this looks like? You're gone, every night, every weekend, you are never home!"

"Yeah, well, I need to be there. It's my business, it's my responsibility. I mean, that place was nothing, just a little hole in the wall garage when I got out of the Army. I built that place into what it is now. And I'm expanding, and I have a waiting list of a year, I have two celebrity jobs, Cas, this stuff is important to me!"

"Spending time with you is important to me, dammit!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stay home once in a while. And I don't know, maybe sleep in you own bed instead of on your desk?!" Cas's face was red, he was really angry now. Angrier than Dean had ever seen him.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, I lost trac…

"…track of time. Right. That's what you always say." Cas flopped back into his pillow.

"Well, it's true."

"Right, because I don't talk to anyone else who works there," Cas commented sarcastically.

"What?"

"I talk to Jo. I talk to Benny. They both say you pretty much spend the day in your office, hiding from customers and whoever the hell else comes in. So what _do_  you do all day? I don't get it. You're always telling me it's paperwork, paperwork, paperwork, but you're really just hiding from  _me_ , aren't you? This is because I said I didn't want kids, right?"

"No!"

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know, ok? I don't know!" Dean yelled.

"Then you need to figure it out. Because I'm tired of competing with Winchester and Sons for your attention!"

"What you want me to do? Quit?" Dean screamed.

"That would be a start!" Cas screamed right back.

Silence fell over the bedroom.

"Dean…"

"No." Dean held his hand up to silence him. "Fuck you, Cas. That fucking garage is my whole fucking life. My whole. Fucking. Life." He grabbed his tee shirt back out of the hamper and yanked it back over his head, "and you knew that when you married me. Fuck. You."

"No, you idiot, you told me your family was your whole fucking life. I don't know what's going on with you, but I don't like it. Maybe we need to go see Pamela."

"Oh fuck Pamela!" Dean yelled. "I'm so fucking done with all of this!" He yanked open the bedroom door and thudded down the stairs, ignoring Cas's calls to come back. He snatched his boots and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

It only took him a minute to realize that he didn't have the Impala's keys, and he didn't know what to do next.

Lightning flickered across the sky, and inside the house, lights were coming on as Cas came downstairs, and Dean Winchester, brave war veteran, did something so childish and cowardly, he'd beat himself up about it later.

He ran.

The skies opened as he dashed across the street, hiding behind Benny's truck in the other man's driveway.

"Dean!" Cas called, standing on the porch. "Dean, come back! Dammit, just come back!"

He was completely soaked now, hiding behind the truck, and he watched Cas call for him once more. His husband's shoulders slumped in defeat, and he went back in and shut the door.

A roll of loud thunder startled Dean, and he knew he needed to find shelter. And then he started coughing.

This round lasted a while, and when it was over, Dean was on his knees in Benny's driveway, dizzy, his chest aching.

When he was able to get to his feet again, he skulked around Benny's house, letting himself into the screen porch. Dean set his wet boots on the ground under a chaise. He pulled off his tee, and wrung it out, then repeated the process with his jeans. His stuff was still very damp when he pulled it back on.

Andrea had a throw blanket tossed over the chair, and Dean wrapped himself in it, laying down on the chaise. He was chilly, and shivering a bit from the dampness.

He coughed again, not quite as bad this time, but the spasms still added to the ache in his chest.

God, now he'd done it. He'd taken the best thing he'd ever had and burned it to the ground. He was sure that complete and total overreaction was going to cost him.

Dean couldn't begin to figure out why he'd been working so hard, why he couldn't sleep at night, or why he didn't seem to have any appetite anymore. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't stop dreaming about Andy when he actually did manage to pass out.

A tear rolled down his cheek, and he sniffled, rolling onto his side and pulling his knees up to his chest.

 _Such a fuckin' idiot,_  he thought,  _had everything I ever wanted and I threw it away. Way to go, Winchester. No way Cas is gonna want me back after this._

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, as he sniffled and shivered, alone and miserable on his best friend's back porch.

And it was no less than he deserved.


	23. Making Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After yesterday's update, I thought it might be hazardous to my health to wait to long to update, so here you go.

* * *

_September 11, 2015_

Dean startled out of a nightmare and nearly rolled off the chaise lounge in his confusion. Blinking open his eyes, he took in the white plank ceiling, his heart sinking when he realized he was on Benny's back porch. His clothes were stuck to his skin, every inch of him soaked with a cold sweat. The air was humid and slightly chilly, and Dean shivered.

A quick check of his watch told him it was just after four in the morning. He pulled himself to a sitting position, groaning softly at the crick in his neck. Restlessness stirred in him, and he reached for his boots, pulling them on, lacing them up.

He stood, stretched, and instantly started coughing. It fucking hurt, bringing tears to his eyes again, as he wrapped his arms around his chest, trying desperately to stop and catch his breath. His chest hurt, and he wanted nothing more to collapse back onto the chaise, but he didn't want Benny to find him out there.

Dean left the porch, holding the screen door so it would shut quietly. He walked around the side of the house, the wet grass making sloshing sounds under his boots. At least it wasn't raining anymore.

Rubbing his chest, he walked around to the front. It was still dark, too early for light to tint the horizon. He stood in front of Benny's truck and stared across the street at his own house.

All the downstairs lights were on, and he could see Cas, at the kitchen table, his laptop open.

A new pain bloomed in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to cross that street and walk back into his house, fall on his knees, and beg Cas to forgive him.

Instead, he turned away and started walking.

Somehow, three hours later, when the dawn cast the world around him in pinks, peaches, and soft powder blues, he found himself on the porch of the little grey house Pamela Barnes used for her office. He sat down in the doorway, and pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to regulate his breathing to keep from coughing.

He didn't remember dozing off, but Pamela was there, gently shaking his shoulder, and Dean startled awake.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" she asked, her green eyes wide and concerned. "How did you get here? I don't see the car…"

"Walked," he mumbled, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs.

"All the way from your house? God, you look like hell. C'mon, get up and come inside." She reached down, offering him a hand, and Dean pulled himself to his feet, a wave of dizziness sweeping over him. "Seriously, you're a mess. What is going on?" She unlocked the door and let him in.

"I fucked up," he said miserably, flopping into the couch she pointed at.

"OK, we're gonna get to the bottom of that in a moment here. Give me a second." She picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Janie? It's Pam. I need you to cancel my morning for me, ok? Something came up. Ok? Thanks, babe." She hung the phone up, and Dean could feel her eyes sweeping over him. "Ok, you, my office. Nicer couch in there, anyway."

He complied, moving through the little house in a daze. The urge to cough bubbled up, and he held his breath and rubbed his chest until it passed, dropping down into the plush leather couch in Pam's office.

"Alright, start talking. What the hell happened? I saw you two months ago, and you were fine, now you're here, looking like death warmed over, and I can tell just by looking at you that you've lost about twenty pounds. And you didn't exactly have it to lose. So what's going on? And where's Cas?"

"Cas is at home." Dean stared down at his hands.

"Ok," Pamela sighed. She messed with her cell phone for a minute, then set it to the side. "I'm gonna ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them. Ok?"

He nodded.

"First, why aren't you eating?"

"No appetite."

"Ok. Are you sleeping?"

"Not much."

"Nightmares?"

He squirmed, not meeting her eyes.

"I'm going to take that as a yes. The same ones as before?"

"No," he murmured.

"Can you tell me about them? It will help me get an idea of what's going on here." Her voice was soft and soothing, gently coaxing him to talk.

"I keep…" He shuddered, blinked back tears, "they're about Andy. I keep dreaming about him. He's all burned and horrible looking, and he gets in my face, and asks me why I let him get killed. And then he grabs my arms and I start…I start…I burn. I burn like he did."

"Does Cas know? Has he had to wake you from these dreams?"

"Just once, as far as I know. I've haven't been sleeping much at home."

"Dean…"

"No, I try, I just…I can't. I try though. I just don't want him to worry."

"Don't you think he's worried now?"

"I dunno…"

"Well, I do. I have three messages on my cell from him. He's trying to find you, he's scared, because you left last night and he doesn't know where you are."

A tear slid down his cheek. "He'd be better off without me."

"Ok, now what is going on here? We have dropped back to the first couple of times you came to see me. Last time I saw you, you were doing so good, I cut the appointments back to every four months. What happened in the last two months, Dean?"

"I don't know. I don't know what my problem is."

"Ok, well let's go back over the last couple of months. What's happened? Anything change?"

"It's September eleventh," Dean said distractedly.

"Yes, it is."

"I joined the Army on 9-11. The attacks happened that morning and I was at the recruiter's office by noon."

"I know. You've told me that before," she said softly. "Now, why don't you tell me about what's been going on with you lately."

"Ben left," he said woodenly, gazing at his hands and picking at a cuticle on his thumbnail.

"Ok, so that's one. I know you're not happy about it, but you seemed prepared when you were here before. How's work?"

"Insane. We're expanding again."

"Ok, so that's two. Work stress. How about the rest of your family?"

"Yeah, they're all great. Both of my brother's wives are pregnant, Cas's sister is pregnant, and Cas doesn't want kids, so I guess that's good." He hated the bitter note in his voice as he said that.

"Hmm. So you want kids? More kids, I mean? And Cas doesn't?"

"Yeah. But I don't want Cas to agree with that just because…I won't force him. And his points were good, hell, I pretty much agree with him."

"But it's still bugging you?"

"Yeah." He sniffled a bit, blinking back tears. "Fuck, Pam, I'm a horrible husband. He does so damn much for me. He's amazing. And I don't know what I'm doing. He could do so much better."

"Stop that right now. He loves you, I know that for a fact, and he doesn't want anyone else. Dean, you can be such an idiot sometimes, and you're so unfairly hard on yourself." She looked back over her notes. "Ok, so take all those stressors and mix them together, and you've got one messed up Dean Winchester. Right?"

Dean nodded and sniffled, a few more tears slipping free.

"This is good. Now we have a reason, we can start moving forward. This is growth, Dean. The first couple of times you came to see me, I had to practically threaten you to get you to talk. Now, you just sat here and volunteered all that information. This is good, this is progress."

A door slammed, and Cas burst into the room. "Dean!"

"Oh, by the way, I texted your husband."

Cas rushed across the floor and dropped onto the couch, reaching out and pulling Dean into his arms. "Oh god, I was so worried! You scared the hell out of me!"

The floodgates opened, and Dean clung to Cas, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, Cas, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

"It's going to be ok, whatever this is, we'll fix it. It's going to be ok."

"I think I know what's going on here, Castiel," Pamela said with a smile.

"Good, 'cause I don't. I don't think I've handled this situation well."

Dean snorted. "You haven't? I think I own that one," he said bitterly.

"Dean…"

"It doesn't matter," Pam interrupted, "from talking to Dean, I've put a pretty solid picture together of what's going on here."

Cas shifted on the couch, never really taking his arms off of Dean, but he turned to face Pamela. Dean continued clinging to his husband, feeling like a giant idiot.

"This is what I think is happening. Dean, correct me if I'm wrong about anything." She smiled at both of them. "Dean is dealing, or rather not dealing, with stress brought on by Ben leaving for school, and the stress of expanding his business. As a result of the stress, he's having a resurgence of the nightmares."

"He's only had one as far as I can tell," Cas said confusedly.

Pam raised her eyebrow at Dean, who sighed.

"Cas, I've been having them a lot. I just haven't been having them at home. I've been spending so much time at work, because I sleep at my desk half the day. I haven't really been sleeping at night."

"Why didn't you tell me, Dean?"

"I dunno…"

"At any rate, between that, and the discussion you had about not having kids…"

Cas sighed.

"…he's stopped eating enough too. And I can tell by looking at you that you're sick."

"I'm not..."

"Liar. I know you've been coughing and it's not allergies. You're getting a cold or something," Cas said.

"And if you're not careful, you're going to end up in the hospital," Pam added. "You need rest, that's the most obvious thing. So we're going to start with this," she wrote something on a prescription pad, and tore it off, handing it to Dean, "and we're going back to weekly meetings for now _. With_ Cas."

"Xanax?"

"Yup. It's not much. Just five pills, take them when you're ready to go to bed, and it'll help you sleep, hopefully without nightmares. And I'm ordering you to take the next four days off."

Dean's eyes widened. "I can't, I'm so behind and I've got interviews and there's stuff that has to be done, I have to be there…"

"Do you hear yourself, Dean? That frantic tone in your voice? That's not healthy. And that's why I'm telling you to take four days off. Someone else can do the interviews. You've told me before how much you trust your team. They'll be ok for a few days without you. You're sick, you're exhausted, and you need to rest. You can go back on Tuesday if you're feeling better. Keep arguing with me and I'll stick your ass in a Behavioral Health Facility."

"You can do that?"

"Damn straight I can do that."

Dean didn't say anything else, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor in this case.

"So, Cas, get that script filled, take that boy home and put him to bed. Chicken soup, orange juice,  _Dr. Sexy_  and  _Star Wars_. You know the drill."

"Of course," Cas said with a smile.

"I'll see you two next Friday at ten, ok? And we'll talk about methods for handling this stress. But you absolutely need to cut your hours back and start talking to the people around you."

"Agreed," Cas said, tapping on his phone, adding the appointment to his calendar.

"Ok, get out of here. And Dean? Call me if you're struggling. I'm actually pretty mad that you let it go this far when we talked about coping skills and calling me when things got out of control."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's ok. Go home. Rest. Next Friday, ok?"

Cas pulled him to his feet, thanked Pam, and led Dean out to the Impala, putting him in the passenger seat. Dean dozed fitfully on the ride home, waking briefly when Cas dropped the 'script off, and again when they pulled in the driveway.

He was led into the house, up the stairs, stripped and showered, dressed in sweats and tee, and bundled up in bed before he really had a moment to comprehend what was going on.

"Now, you stay there. I'm going to go get your meds, and some stuff to make soup, and when I get back, you and I are going to have a very long talk, ok?"

Dean nodded.

"I love you. I wish you'd have just told me what was going on."

"I'm sorry, Cas. I really am."

"I know. And I forgive you. Rest. I'll be back shortly." He leaned down and kissed Dean's forehead, smoothing the blankets over his shoulder as he stood.

Dean watched him leave, then drifted off, warm and cozy in their big bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They will talk more about this situation in the next chapter. Thanks guys, love ya!


	24. Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if it really meets the prompt but I don't care. 
> 
> *throws chapter at you and runs away*

_September 11, 2015_

Later that afternoon found Castiel in the kitchen, while Dean slept on upstairs. There was a large pot of chicken soup bubbling on the range when Jo let herself in. Castiel looked up from where he was chopping granny smith apples and smiled.

"Making pie?" she asked pleasantly.

"Yes. What else would apples be used for in this house?" he said with a chuckle.

"How's he doing?"

"Out cold. I'm hoping he stays that way for a while."

The sound of coughing coming down the stairs made them both turn as Dean appeared, scratching his belly through his worn Led Zeppelin shirt, eyes bleary and hair sticking up in every direction.

"Hey, Jo," he rasped, blinking in the brightness of the kitchen.

"Wow, you look like shit," she said with a grin.

"Thanks. You're a peach."

"Dean, you should be in bed," Castiel told him.

"I know," he looked down, cheeks coloring slightly.

"Did you have another nightmare?"

An almost imperceptible nod.

"Oh. Well…why don't you curl up on the couch, and I'll bring you some soup as soon as it's done."

Dean nodded again, and headed for the couch in the den.

"Do you need anything? I can make a grocery run," Jo asked softly.

"No, we're good. Honestly, and please don't take this the wrong way, but we just need time alone."

"I understand completely," Jo smiled. "'sides Charlie said something about going out to dinner. So I should probably get home to my… _girlfriend_ ," she grinned.

"Still getting used to that?"

"Yeah. But I like it. I had no idea. Like I thought I was straight until I met her."

Castiel looked over at the den, where Dean was pulling his red and blue KU fleece off the back of the couch. "I know someone like that."

"Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For coming into his life and bringing her with you." She leaned up and gave Castiel a kiss on the cheek. "I owe you, pal."

Jo waved as she left, pulling the door shut behind her. Castiel stared, bemused, at the door for moment, then a slow smile slid over his face.

Another round of rough coughing ended his reverie. He turned the soup down on low to simmer, and tossed the apple pieces in the bowl with the lemon juice and spices he'd put together earlier. He poured a glass of orange juice for Dean, and walked over to the den.

Dean was lying on his side, the KU blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his eyes slightly unfocused as he stared at the blank television. Castiel unfolded another blanket and covered his legs and feet. "Are you hungry? The soup is almost done."

"I know I should eat, but I have no desire for food. My stomach is killin' me."

Castiel frowned. "You need to eat. Pamela was right; you have lost some serious weight. I don't know how I didn't see it."

"Not your fault, Cas. It's mine. I was being a stupid idiot."

"Sit up, ok? I want to sit here with you while the soup finishes."

Dean sat up, nuzzling into Castiel the moment he sat down. His skin was warm, and Castiel frowned as he felt his forehead. "I think you're running a fever."

"I'm pretty sure it's just a cold. I've been known to get fevers with colds."

"Well, whatever, I'm going to keep an eye on you and you're going to rest."

Dean nodded, snuggling in closer. "Don't deserve you," he mumbled into Castiel's chest.

"Hey," he cupped Dean's chin and tilted his face up, meeting his eyes, "that's not true. I love you, you idiot. It's not a matter of deserves or doesn't deserve."

"I've been a shit husband lately."

"Yes, to some degree, you have. But that doesn't mean I want to leave. I don't know why, when we have the slightest problem, you think I'm ready to go. Yes, it bugs the hell out of me that you didn't think you could come to me with your problems. Marriage is supposed to be a partnership. When you're struggling, you need to tell me, so I can help you deal with it."

"Don't you get it though? You do so much for me, you plan trips and surprise me with dinner and pie and stuff, and all I do is cause you more stress." Dean's face fell. "I'm no good at this."

"You bring plenty to our marriage too, whether or not you realize it. There's never been a moment where I've regretted marrying you. I'm happy, Dean. I don't think you realize just how happy you make me." He stared into Dean's eyes, watching the light twinkle in his irises. "I love you so much. I do things for you because it makes me happy to make you happy. Ok? Please stop beating yourself up over this. I need you to cut back the stress so you can get better, and our marriage is definitely something you don't have to worry about."

"I just want to do something nice for you for once."

"Then plan our anniversary. Now that I know why you're overworking, and we can put a stop to it, I don't see any reason to delay celebrating our first anniversary in a week, do you?"

"None that I can think of. Do you want to go out to the house in Hawaii? I can book tickets." Dean visibly perked up, his eyes bright as he starting planning.

"I'll do whatever you want. This is your ballgame, plan it and I'll be there."

"Ok, awesome. I'll start figuring stuff out…" Dean started coughing, spasms shaking his whole frame. It took a moment for him to calm, and he slumped into Castiel's arms. "Fuck, that hurts. Ugh."

"If this isn't better by Monday, I'm dragging your ass to Dr. Wang's, ok?"

"Just a cold."

"Yeah, but even a cold can turn into more with a cough like this. We're going to keep an eye on it. In the meantime, you're going to lay here and rest. Try to sleep. I'm going to finish the soup and throw some laundry in." Castiel pulled himself off the couch.

"Ok. Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

"Love you, too. Rest."

Dean snuggled down into his nest of blankets, a soft smile on his face.

* * *

As the weekend dragged on, Dean was very aware that he was not improving, as he drifted between periods of sleep peppered with nightmares and miserable wakefulness, and he woke up sometime early Monday morning, his stomach tossing, and barely made it to the bathroom in time.

Cas found him there, curled into the corner by the toilet, and cleaned him up, tucking him back into the blankets afterwards. He was freezing, and couldn't seem to get warm, burrowing into Cas's body heat. Then the coughing started up again.

Dean finally fell back asleep and dozed fitfully until Cas's alarm went off at eight.

"God, you're really sick," Cas said quietly, sitting up in the bed. "Look, I have to go to this meeting at the restaurant this morning. But, when I get back, I'm taking you to Dr. Wang's. In the meantime, you're not going to leave this bed except for the bathroom, understand?"

"Yes," Dean rasped. His answer set off another coughing fit, and when it was over, he flopped back into the pillows, wheezing, his head spinning and his chest aching.

"Maybe I should cancel the meeting…" Cas said thoughtfully.

"No, I'll be ok 'til you get back. Go."

Cas looked doubtful, but took his shower and got dressed anyway. Dean dozed in and out, barely aware of Cas kissing his forehead and promising to be back as soon as possible.

Stay in bed.

It was a simple enough request, but apparently it didn't stick as he was now walking into the big garage at work. How the hell had he even gotten there? Must be some crazy fever dream, but damn, Benny looked upset.

"Wha' the hell are you doin' here, Dean? Look like death warmed over!"

"Ben…I had to…had to…fuck, how did I get here? 'm I dreamin'?"

"No, buddy, you ain't." Benny approached him slowly, "Maddy, darlin', I want you to go 'cross the street and get Cas, 'k?"

"Ok," she said, her voice anxious, disappearing behind Dean. He turned his head to follow her and an intense wave of dizziness swept over him.

"Garth, go tell Jo what's goin' on."

"Yup."

"Benny. Don't feel so good."

"I can imagine. C'mon, let's go to your office, sit down 'til Cas gets here. Alright?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded, then a cough started. He wrapped his arms around his chest, doubled over in pain as white hot agony shot through his ribcage. Benny's hands were on him, holding him steady, but he couldn't stop coughing. When it was finally over, his face was wet with tears, and he looked up at Benny, his friend's blue eyes wide with concern.

"Dean?"

"'m good, Benny, I'm…" And then the room spun in a slow circle, and up was down and down was up, and shit, Benny was carrying him, like he was some weird ass bride, and it was so comical and ridiculous that he couldn't help but laugh, but that made him cough, and oh god, his chest was on fucking fire, it hurt so goddamn bad, and Cas was there, his face white, and the coughing wouldn't stop and god, he couldn't fucking breathe and everything around him faded out to seamless, endless black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear he's not dying, I wouldn't do that to you guys.


	25. Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The big reveal! What's wrong with Dean?!

_September 14, 2015_

Castiel paced back and forth in the Emergency Department waiting room at Lawrence Memorial, wringing his hands and trying not to completely freak out. Benny was sprawled in a chair nearby, looking just as worried. Jo and Charlie were sitting very close, heads tilted towards each other, whispering. Jo was crying. Had been since Dean passed out. Sam was on his way. Bobby and Ellen were on their way. Adam was there already, Madison holding his hand. Everyone was watching him, watching his face, and worrying about Dean.

And he had nothing to tell them, other than the fact that Dean had been coughing and vomiting. He didn't know what was wrong with him. The doctors had pushed him out into the waiting room while they worked on his husband and Castiel felt like he was losing his mind.

He was sure Dean had understood that he was supposed to stay in bed. He was sure of it. Although, judging by the bizarre way the Impala had been parked in the middle of the lot with the engine still running and the driver's door open, he had to wonder how aware Dean had even been. He showed up at the garage in boxers and a tee, no socks or shoes at all. And that terrified him. The thought that Dean would have driven to work that out of it was scary.

The Impala was a hell of a huge and heavy automobile, and if he had hit and hurt someone, or worse, killed someone, Dean would have never forgiven himself.

"Cas," Benny said, holding his phone out to show him a text, "Andrea said your front door was hangin' open. I think it's lookin' more and more like he was pretty out of it. Kinda scary, huh?"

"Very scary," Castiel muttered. "I wish they'd let me back there, or give me some kind of update. It's been almost an hour. I'm losing my mind, Benny."

"Cas!" Sam rushed into the waiting area, hair wild and eyes wide. "How is he? What's going on? Is he going to be ok? I got here as quick as I could!"

"It's ok, we don't know much of anything right now. I don't even know how he managed to drive across town to the shop."

"How sick is he?"

"He was running a fever and throwing up this morning, and he's been coughing for about a week. Dean's been working too hard and he's lost weight, and apparently he was having a resurgence of the nightmares. Instead of telling me, he was sleeping at his desk at work during the day, because he couldn't sleep at night."

Sam sighed. "Stubborn idiot. Why does he do that shit?"

"Didn't want me to worry."

"Yeah, 'cause we're not worried as hell now."

"Right." Castiel sunk into the closest chair. "I don't know what to do with him some days," he admitted.

"I know what you mean. He's very good at taking care of everyone around him, but he's terrible at taking care of himself, or god forbid, letting someone take care of him."

"I know. It's ridiculous and I don't know what to do about it."

A door opened, and a familiar figure stuck her head out the door. "Cas? Come with me please," Lisa smiled at him. "I'll come get the rest of you in a bit," she said, holding the door for Castiel. "The doctor just wants him right now."

Castiel stood and followed her into the back, relieved to be finally getting some news.

"They're moving him upstairs, but I need to take you back here with me. I need to swab your throat."

"Why?"

Lisa sighed, playing with the badge on a lanyard around her neck. "They think he has MRSA related pneumonia. And if he has MRSA, you could too, and we need to take a culture and test you. And it also means when you are in the room with him, you're going to have to be fully gowned, masked and gloved."

"Oh my god, Lisa, MRSA? That's scary. Is he going to be ok?"

"Well, they're already hitting him with some heavy duty antibiotics. And he was horribly dehydrated, so he's getting fluids, and oxygen to help him breathe. I won't lie, he's bad, Cas. He should have gone to the doctor's days ago, and he's exhausted and underweight, which knowing him, he hid all of it from you until it got too bad to ignore. Sound about right?"

"Yes. I should have made him go Friday." He sat on the chair Lisa waved at and grimaced when she swabbed his throat.

"Well they still have to do a lot of tests, but they're pretty sure that's what it is." Lisa put the swab into a tube and stuck a label on it. She peeled off her latex gloves and tossed them in a biohazard container and handed the tube to another nurse. "C'mon, let's get you upstairs and we can talk to the doctor and hopefully get you in to see Dean. He's probably going to be pretty out of it for the next couple of days. He's really sick, Cas."

"If he has this, and you're testing me for it, what happens if I get it?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure they're going to put you on antibiotics anyway, but I think if you were going to get it, you would have by now. You might be a non-symptomatic carrier which basically means you gave it to Dean but didn't get it yourself."

"You mean, I may have made him sick? This might be my fault?"

"Unfortunately, that's how it is sometimes. It could have sat in your lungs for years and just waited until it found a weakened immune system to latch onto. And it might not even be you. We're going to have to swab everyone he's closest too. Especially Mari. And Madison and Jess. I did mine already." She pushed the button for the elevator and the door opened.

"We're going to take good care of him, Cas, I promise. He's in an isolated room, and outside contact will be kept to a minimum."

"I should have seen this. I should have seen how sick he was getting." He leant back against the rear wall of the elevator and sighed.

"It's Dean. He's a stubborn ass and doesn't ever want anyone to think he can't take care of himself." Lisa's phone chimed. She pulled it, and stared at the screen. "Oh dammit."

"What?"

"I told Ben not to freak out and he just texted to tell me he's on his way to the airport."

"Dean will be pissed."

"No kidding. But stubbornness, you know? Like father like son." The elevator chimed, and the door opened. "Come on, let's go see the doctor and then I can get you gloved and gowned and in to see him."

Castiel nodded and followed her down the hall, anxious to see his husband.

* * *

Dean was propped up, the bed angled to help ease his breathing. His eyes were closed, his face bloodless, long lashes resting on freckled cheeks. A clear green oxygen mask obscured his mouth and nose. There were I.V. lines running from his arm to several bags of fluids on a pole over the bed. Wires ran out from under his hospital gown to a monitor, his heart beat and pulse being carefully measured.

His lids fluttered when Castiel ran a gloved hand over his forehead, wincing at the feel of the still high fever.

Castiel sank into a chair, exhausted at two o'clock in the afternoon. He'd met with the doctors, and had been told at least two weeks in the hospital, maybe more if he didn't respond to treatment. He'd lost about thirty pounds, and he was incredibly weak. His immune system was comprised, he was severely dehydrated, he was exhausted. And, to make things that much worse, Castiel was told that confining him to the bed and couch over the weekend hadn't done him any favors. It had just given the fluids in his lungs a chance to build up faster.

By the time he'd wandered into work that morning, he was basically being suffocated by the fluid in his lungs.

Castiel had already had his first dose of antibiotics by that time, and he sighed and ran a hand down his face, irritated when the latex glove snapped. The precautions they were making him take just to see Dean were already driving him insane. Leaning forward, he reached out and took Dean's hand, dismayed at the heat radiating off his skin.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly. "I should have seen this. I should have realized how bad you were doing. I feel like I've failed you. I'm so sorry."

There was no response from Dean and Castiel sighed.

"Just get better. Ok? Just get better. We'll handle this. I'll nurse you back to health myself, if that's what it takes. Just don't leave me. You hear me, Dean Winchester? Don't you fucking leave me." Castiel shuddered.

"Hey," Sam said from the doorway. His eyes swept over Dean's still form on the bed. "He looks horrible," he said quietly, his voice further muffled by the mask he was wearing. "What did the docs say?"

"Two weeks in the hospital. If not more. He's dehydrated, his lungs are full of fluid, and it's basically going to be one hell of an uphill battle to get well. Oh, and he's going to be pissed when he wakes up and finds out Ben is on his way."

Sam snorted. "Well he'll just have to deal with that, won't he? Did they swab you?"

"Yes. It's going to take several days before we know for sure that's what it is though."

Dean groaned, a low sound in the back of his throat, his eyelids fluttering. Castiel jumped out of his chair, sitting on the edge of the bed instead, still holding onto Dean's hand.

"Dean? I'm here, baby. I'm here. I won't leave, I won't go anywhere. I promise. Just open your eyes for me."

He managed to crack his eyelids open just enough for Castiel to catch a glimpse of green, then they closed again, and his body went limp.

"Well, that was something," Sam said.

"Yeah. He's got a long road ahead of him though."

"But his family will get him through it. We'll take care of him for once, right?"

Castiel nodded. "Right." He gently squeezed Dean's hand. "We'll take care of him."

As if he'd do anything else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't have written this chapter with out my personal medical consultant, the lovely wifey-mcwiferson.tumblr.com


	26. Sick 2.0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically a continuation of the prompt for Chapter 25 "Sick". Back to the prompts on the next one.

_September 16, 2015_

Why did it feel like he was underwater? There were voices, familiar and warm, but he couldn't put his finger on who they were. There was an annoying, persistent  _beep beep beep_. Something on his face. Something in his nose. His arms felt heavy, hell, his whole body felt heavy. His ribs hurt. His lungs hurt.

And he was freezing.

Dean struggled to open his eyes, figured if he could just do that, the rest of his questions would be answered. He felt so damn groggy though, and his eyelids were not cooperating. Something was wrong. Something was wrong and he was starting to panic, that beeping noise speeding up.

Voices came closer, but there was a buzzing in his ears, and he couldn't distinguish one voice from the other. He managed to get a hand up to his face, hooking his fingers into a strap and pulling. Another hand gently pulled his away, the word _Dean_  filtering through the buzzing.

He just wanted to open his eyes. That was it. Dean needed to know where he was and who was touching him, he needed to know what the hell was on his face. God, he hated to admit it, but he was  _scared_.

_Baby, it's ok, I'm here. Relax, it's ok. You're ok._

Cas's voice cut through the buzzing, and Dean focused on it, the soft sound of his husband's voice. He tried again, this time managing to get his eyes open enough to see Cas smiling down at him.

"Hi there," he smiled.

Dean tried to respond, but nothing came out of his mouth. He reached his other hand up, trying to reach for the thing on his face, but Cas stopped him.

"No, you need to leave that on. It's an oxygen mask, and it's helping you breath. You're very sick, and you're in the hospital. You have pretty severe pneumonia."

There was something else wrong here. It was definitely Cas's voice, and it felt like Cas's hands on his, but there was a weird texture to his skin, and when he looked up at Cas, he could only see his eyes. He was wearing a mask over his face.

"M-mask," Dean rasped.

Cas frowned. "Like I said, you're really sick, and the doctors are making your visitors, myself included, wear masks, gowns, and gloves when we're in here with you. That way, you don't catch something else and get even more sick."

That didn't make sense to Dean. At all. But then, nothing was really making sense to him. While he was pondering this, he started coughing.

Oh fuck, he'd forgotten about the damn cough. Cas and someone else in a mask helped him into a sitting position, Cas rubbing and patting his back. Something sticky and wet came up his throat and he gagged.

A gloved hand slipped the oxygen mask from his face, and he spit the mass into the basin Cas was holding. When it was over, the mask was put back and he was gently lowered back into the pillows. Familiar warm brown eyes smiled down at him.

"Hey, there," Lisa said, "lucky you got the hottest nurse in the hospital, huh?"

Cas chuckled. "I'm not working here as a nurse, Lisa," he snarked.

"A girl can dream, right?"

Dean watched them banter, his head still spinning from the coughing fit. Another person in a gown and mask entered his room. This new person was very tall, and he'd recognize him anywhere.

He tried to say hello to his brother, but his mouth and vocal cords refused to cooperate.

"Is he ok?" Sam asked, voice muffled by the mask.

"Yes, he just had a pretty bad coughing fit, but he brought stuff up this time. That's a good sign," Lisa said, as she lifted Dean's arm and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. He felt the cuff begin to tighten. "Dean, are you in any pain right now?"

Oh hell yeah, he was in pain. His chest was on fire and his throat hurt. He nodded weakly, rather alarmed by his total lack of strength.

"Ok, I'm going to give you a little oxycodone. It will help." She pulled a syringe out of her scrub top and uncapped it, slipping the needle into his IV line. He felt relief almost immediately, a warm wave washing over him.

"Better?" Cas asked.

"Yeah," Dean rasped. He was definitely feeling better. So much better, in fact. Hell, he felt great! He felt like he could hop out of bed, and he sat up slightly, with just that intention.

"No, lay back down. You're not going anywhere."

"I want to go home," he groused.

"Nope. Not going to happen until you are significantly better. One little shot of painkiller is not a magic wand."

Lisa pulled his cuff off, making a notation on his chart with a pen. "Ben's gonna come see you later, Dean. So you have that to look forward to."

"Ben? He's supposed to be at school."

"I'm not the one who gave him a no-limit credit card. He was on his way to the airport the second he got the call." She straightened his blankets and ran a gloved hand through his hair. "Now, rest, you idiot. I'll be back in a while."

"So dude, passing out in the middle of your shop? Pretty good way to freak everyone out."

Sam looked goofy, with his long hair all tucked up in a blue hairnet thingie. "You look funny, Sammy," Dean giggled.

"Ah, Jesus. Meds kicked in. He's high as a kite, isn't he?"

"Mmm, yesterday he asked me if I would take him to the Grand Canyon. Right at that very moment. And then he cried when I said no." Cas squeezed his hand.

"Don' talk 'bout me like I'm not here…" Dean whined. Why were they being mean to him? That wasn't nice. Why was the room glowing? He settled back into the pillows, body relaxing. The thing in his nose was really bugging him. Cas and Sam were chatting about his condition. He heard words like pneumonia and fluid and  _MRSA_? What the hell was that?

He'd had enough of the damn thing in his nose though. It itched, and he could swear he could feel it in the back of his throat. Cas wasn't looking, he was talking to Sam and looking at Sam, and Dean lifted his hand, fingers finding the tube.

"No," Sam said abruptly, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from his face. "You need that to stay in. Cut it out, Dean."

"You've been in and out for two days. That tube has been feeding you. You can't take it out."

Dean whimpered, tears burning his eyes. What the hell? What the fuck was wrong with him, that he was about to cry over a stupid tube in his nose?

Cas seemed to notice his distress, and he stood and sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Dean," he said as he pulled his hand close to his chest, "you're ok. You're just very, very sick, and you're on some heavy drugs and nothing is making sense to you right now. I just need you to lay back and rest, and let the doctors and nurses do their jobs, ok?"

He stared up at Cas, eyes widening slightly. It had to be the drugs, but he could swear Cas had a halo. His head lolled to the side, where Sam was, hazel eyes full of concern. Maybe it was the lighting in the room, but Sam looked… _beautiful_.

"You're pretty, Sammy," he murmured.

Sam snorted. "Yeah he's gone."

The room was spinning. It wasn't annoying, just  _weird_. Colors and shapes blended into each other. "Whoa," he whispered, watching the light show on his ceiling.

"Go to sleep, Dean. I'll be here when you wake up. Rest. You need it."

That seemed like good advice, and even as he thought it, his vision dimmed. Yeah. Sleep.

He could do that.

* * *

Dean woke again around ten, wheezing and coughing. He clung to Castiel while he coughed, and when it was over, he had tears in his eyes. He pulled Dean backwards, carefully arranging him against his chest. He could actually feel the wheezing in Dean's lungs as he fought for breath. The heart monitor starting going nuts, beeps coming faster as Dean panicked.

"Dean, you need to calm down. Try and take a deep breath." Castiel pushed the call button, and rubbed his hand in circles on Dean's back.

Lisa pushed his door open a short time later, gloves and mask already in place. "Everything ok?"

"He's panicking again." This had happened twice in the last two days. Dean would wake up, start coughing, struggle for breath, and become convinced that he couldn't breathe. Then the panic would set in, making it genuinely hard to breathe. The more he panicked, the harder it was to catch his breath. The first time it happened, it had been so bad that he'd blacked out.

"Dean, we need you to calm down, ok? We need you to take a deep breathe. Can you do that?"

Dean looked up at her with wild green eyes, and Castiel could tell she wasn't getting through to him.

"Ok, med time." She pulled a syringe out and uncapped it, "have a little Roxanol, Dean." Lisa pushed the needle into the line, pressing down on the plunger. The effects were nearly immediate, the rigidity leaving Dean's body as he relaxed back into Castiel's arms.

Kicking his shoes off, Castiel leaned back into the pillows, pulling Dean down with him and settling him into his arms, carefully moving his IV lines and the wires attached to the monitor above the bed.

"He should sleep now. Let me check his vitals while I'm here."

Dean groaned, and rolled onto his side, burying his face into Castiel's shoulder as best as he could, hindered by the mask, tubes, and wires. Lisa smiled down at them.

"Is he still awake?"

Castiel twisted his neck to check. Dean was out, eyes closed and mouth slightly open under the mask. "No, he's out cold."

"That's good. He needs to rest. Obviously, he's gone too long without proper rest and it caught up to him."

She made quick work of the blood pressure cuff, but frowned when she took his temperature. "It's still on the high side," she said, making the notation on his chart.

"Are they going to make me leave tonight? I don't want to."

"Nope. Actually, I'm have one of the chairs from Maternity brought up. It's basically a big, comfy recliner. If you can sleep in the mask and crap, you can stay."

"Thank you."

"Well, I'm done for the night. Pretty sure Ava's replacing me. She's nice, you'll like her. I'll see you guys later. I'm off tomorrow, but I'll come check on him."

"Thank you, Lisa."

She smiled and ran a hand through Dean's hair. His brow furrowed, and he attempted to burrow in closer to Castiel. "No problem." Lisa adjusted the blankets, pulling them up over Castiel as well. "Since I'm pretty sure you'll just stay right here all night," she explained with a grin.

"Thank you," he said again.

Flipping off the lights, she left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Dean moaned in his sleep, and Castiel gently ran a hand through his hair. "It's ok. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, and we are going to get through this. You're going to get better. You have too. I'm not…you're just going to get better. Period."

He pulled the blankets tighter around them, holding Dean and slowly drifting off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean was pretty out of it in this chapter. If the first part reads sort of disjointed, that was on purpose to reflect the effect of the drugs in his system.


	27. Getting Married

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is a new chapter 24 hours later. Happy Valentine's Day, my loves!

_September 18, 2015_

When Sam got to the hospital that morning, Cas was pacing Dean's room, talking on his cell. He looked up at Sam and waved, his cheerful gesture made a lie by the obvious stress in his eyes.

His brother was the same as the night before, pale and asleep, propped up in his hospital bed. The mask had been traded for a cannula, so that was a positive change at least. The NG tube was still in his nose. Dean had made an effort to try and eat, but he had gagged so much he'd given up. The decision was made to leave the tube in.

Sam pulled up a chair next to Dean's bed, and took out his phone to text Jess that nothing had changed. She wanted very much to come and visit, but both her doctor and Dean's doctor had felt the contamination risk to her and the baby was far too great, and that it would better for her to stay away from Dean for the time being.

"I'll call if anything changes. Will you call Gabe and update him please?" Cas paused in his conversation. "Yes, thank you, Anna. I love you too. Goodbye." He ended the call and slid his phone into his pocket. Despite the mask covering his face, Sam could tell he was frowning.

"Something wrong?"

"We're not sure. His fever shot up overnight, and he had another panic attack this morning. Also, it's definitely MRSA, and I definitely gave it to him." Cas slumped into a chair. "I'm so tired."

"Why don't you go home for a while? Take a nap in a real bed, have a shower, come back around three or four? I'll stay with him."

Cas looked doubtful. "I don't know. I went to the cafeteria to get coffee this morning and that's when he had his panic attack. I don't want him to wake up alone."

"Well, he won't wake up alone. I'll be here."

"I could use a real shower. And some clean clothes. I wanted to grab a few things…"

"Go, Cas, I'll stay. And Ben told me he was coming by today too. So he won't be alone."

"Ok. Yeah, ok…Sam, I don't have a car here. I haven't left since they brought him in Monday."

Sam fished the keys to his Beamer out of his pocket. "Take mine, dude. Go. Seriously."

"Yeah, I will. Thank you, Sam." Cas stood again, leaned over Dean and pressed his masked face to his forehead. "I'll be back soon, baby. I promise. Just rest for me, ok?" He turned to go, then looked back at Sam, sadness in his blue eyes. "I shouldn't leave him. Not today. It's our anniversary, you know? One year…"

"I know. I'm sorry, Cas. But you need to take care of yourself, too."

"I feel like I've failed him. I feel like I should have seen that he was drowning, I should have stopped all this. It's all my fault."

"No it isn't. He's really good at making things look ok, making things look fine. Dean wants to take care of everyone, but he never wants to take care of himself. This isn't your fault, Cas."

"I don't know…"

"I do. Now go home, dammit."

Cas nodded. "I'll be back."

"Take you time, man, we'll be ok."

Cas nodded again, took one last look at Dean, then left the room.

"You're freaking your husband out, dude." Sam looked around the room, at the dozens of flower and balloon arrangements. He stood, pulling cards out of some of them. "Bobby Flay, dude. Chip Foose. Guy Fieri. Jay fuckin' Leno?! Must be nice to be famous. What are you gonna do with all these things?"

Dean didn't respond, and Sam settled into the comfy recliner with a sigh, grabbing the remote and flipping on the TV. He surfed through the channels for a while.  _Dr. Sexy_  was on. He didn't even like that show, but he left it on anyway.

He must've dozed off for a bit, after all, Cas wasn't the only one not sleeping enough. Cas wasn't the only one who sat up and worried about Dean all night. At any rate, he had dozed off, and woke up with a start when Dean groaned.

"Hey," he said, sitting up, and taking Dean's hand. The heart monitor was accelerating slightly, and he knew Dean was on the verge of another panic attack. "Dean! Look at me. It's ok, you can breathe. Just take a deep breath."

Dean rolled his head towards him, squinting, focusing on Sam's face. He rubbed his thumb over Dean's hand. "It's ok, c'mon, just breathe. Just breathe, in and out."

Within a few seconds, the incessant beeping slowed, Dean working hard to calm himself.

"That's it, you're doing great, Dean. You're doing great."

"Where's Cas?"

"He went home. He'll be back soon, I promise."

"S'mmy…wanna go home."

"I know. But you can't right now. You're too sick. You need to be here so they can help you get back on your feet."

"'m scared, S'mmy. 'm scared. Can't stay awake, can't stop coughin'. 'm tryin' not to freak out, but 'm scared."

Sam's heart clenched. Dean's eyes were so tired, and brimming with tears. He wasn't used to seeing his big brother like this. Dean was devil-may-care, I'm a badass and you can't get me down, but in the last several months, he'd slowly started falling apart. And none had them had noticed until it was almost too late. Cas was right, he had failed Dean. But it wasn't just him. He wasn't alone in this.

None of them had noticed that Dean was floundering. No one had noticed, because he had hidden it so carefully. But they all should have seen it. Dammit, Cas wasn't the only that had failed Dean.

They all had.

And now, as a family, they were going to have to rally around him, and help him get back on his feet.

"You're going to be ok. I swear it. Yes, you're sick now, but you're going to get better." Sam did something he'd never done before. He stood, and leaned over Dean, pressing his masked face to his brother's forehead. "It's going to be ok."

"Shouldn't spend so much time with me…"

"Shuddup. I took a few weeks off. You're important," he huffed, dropping back into the chair, still holding Dean's hand, "besides, if the situation was reversed, they wouldn't be able to pry you from my bedside with a crowbar. Right?"

Dean grinned. Actually grinned. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Ok, then. Shut your mouth and watch this stupid cowboy boot doctor show."

"Don't insult my show, dude."

"Yeah, yeah, you're sick, I'll humor you."

His brother raised an eyebrow. "Did you just  _Princess Bride_  at me?"

"Damn straight."

* * *

Dean was sound asleep when Castiel made it back to the hospital. Ben was doing a crossword puzzle and Sam was dozing in the recliner. His stepson hopped out of the chair and gave Castiel a hug, then helped him with the duffle bag he was carrying.

"Has he been awake?"

"Uncle Sam says yes. No panic attack though."

"That's something I guess."

"I'm going to go. Mom wants me to come home and book a flight. She's making me go back to Stanford on Sunday."

"I agree with her completely. You didn't need to come home for this." Castiel tried to look stern, but cracked a smile under his mask when Ben rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. That's my  _Dad,_  dude."

"You're just like him."

"That's a compliment. Tell him I'll be back early tomorrow, ok?" He gave Castiel another hug and disappeared through the door, pulling it shut behind him. The latch startled Sam, and Castiel couldn't help but laugh when he almost fell out of the chair.

"That was graceful."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, that's me, the graceful moose." He looked Castiel over, "you look a hundred times better."

"I feel better. Thank you for staying. I slept longer than I meant to."

"So it's after six," Sam said, looking at his watch. "No bigs."

Dean whimpered in his sleep, shifting in the bed. Both men froze and watched him, mentally preparing for another panic attack, but his face smoothed out.

"They gave him something a little while ago. He's been pretty out of it since. I'm gonna go though. Jess has dinner waiting. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Good. Dean wants to send his flowers and balloons up to the Children's Floor. You can help me with that."

"No prob. See you tomorrow."

And then Sam was gone as well, leaving Castiel alone with Dean. He opened his duffle and pulled out a large photo album and a pair of sweatpants. The album was carefully set on Dean's rolling tray. He stripped his jeans off and changed into the sweats.

Dean groaned, eyelids fluttering when Castiel turned to look at him.

"Are you waking up? I'm here, Dean." Castiel took his hand and squeezed it. "If you can wake up some, I can show you something I brought with me. I'd love it if you woke up for a bit."

Freckled eyelids flickered again, and Dean opened his eyes. He actually seemed pretty calm, and Castiel guessed that was due to the meds.

"Cas?" he groaned.

"Hi there. Think maybe I could join you?"

Dean nodded, and Castiel went to work, grabbing extra pillows and making the bed comfortable for both of them. He gently lifted Dean's torso, sliding into the bed. His husband rolled onto his side as best as he could, settling against Castiel's chest. He reached out and slid the tray closer, pulling the photo album onto his lap.

"That our wedding album?" Dean asked.

"Yup. It's our anniversary, after all."

"It is? How long I been in here?"

"Since Monday. It's Friday now."

Dean's face scrunched up. "Wanna go home, Cas."

"I know. But you're too sick right now. You need to stay here and concentrate on getting better. Believe me, I'd love to take you home." Dean started coughing again, and Castiel set the book aside again, lifting Dean and rubbing his back until it passed. "See, that's already an improvement. You coughed, but didn't send yourself into a panic attack. Improvement, I'm telling you."

Dean nodded tiredly, slumping against Castiel's chest. "Hurts," he mumbled miserably. "Tired of coughing."

"I know. Come on, lay back down, and let's look at our pictures." They got settled, Dean leaning into him, his head resting on Castiel's shoulder. He opened the cover. The first picture was from the ceremony itself.

They were standing in front of their friends and family. Dean had been saying his vows and gotten choked up, and Castiel had taken his hands, pulling them to his mouth and kissing them. The photographer had captured the moment beautifully, the lighting was just right, and the white lanterns in the trees above them framed the picture perfectly.

"Look how nice we look."

"Yeah, I got a hot husband," Dean said, a welcome bit of mirth in his voice.

Castiel pressed his masked lips to Dean's head. "I could say the same."

They spent the next hour looking at pictures and reminiscing.

Dean loved the one of Castiel holding Mari, in her poofy pink dress, swirling around with the baby in his arms while he danced.

Castiel liked the one of Dean with a smear of frosting on his nose and a huge grin on his face, his eyes adorably crinkled at the corners.

There were so many wonderful memories in that book.

Dean dancing with Anna. Sam and Dean sharing a quiet moment in the corner of the room. Balthazar raising a champagne glass and taking credit for their wedding. Jo surreptitiously checking out Charlie's ass. Sam and Jess wrapped tight around each other while they danced. Ellen forking a piece of cake into Bobby's mouth.

Castiel and Dean dancing. Kissing. Hugging. Smiling. Driving off in the Impala with huge grins on their faces.

When Castiel finally closed the cover of the book, Dean was asleep in his arms, and for the first time in five days, he looked completely peaceful.

Castiel sighed and set the album back on the table, then settled in the bed with Dean.

"I love you, Dean. Happy Anniversary."

 


	28. On One of Their Birthdays

_September 24, 2015_

Dean was still sound asleep when Castiel came back from his run to the house. He generally spent his nights with Dean, but left early in the morning, before his husband woke. He’d usually run home and shower, and grab anything they might need for the day. His arms were full, and he set his cargo down on a chair.

Dean was laying on his side, facing the door, arms wrapped around a pillow. He didn’t care much for sleeping on his back, but laying on his side made it more difficult to breathe. The pillow helped a lot, by keeping the weight of his arm elevated, and off his chest.

His mouth was slightly open, face partially burrowed into the pillow in his arms. Dean’s breathing was still on the rough and raspy side, but definitely much improved in the ten days he’d been in the hospital. Every cough brought up more garbage, and his last chest x-ray showed significant improvement.

Castiel’s meeting with the doctors that morning had left him feeling considerably cheered; if he and Lisa could get Dean out of bed and into the shower, or even just on his feet for a little while, then it would go a long way towards his fitness for release. Which was what Dean wanted more than anything.

He was responding well to the medications. His white cell count, which had shot up dramatically in the first few days in the hospital, had dropped back to closer to normal levels. His temperature had dropped to just a slight, low grade fever. The feeding tube was gone, and he was eating light meals and drinking meal supplements. He’d even gained two pounds.

Lisa pushed the door open, Dean’s breakfast on a tray in her hand. She waved and offered a cheery “good morning”, setting Dean’s meal on the bedside table. “So today’s the day. We’re gonna get this big guy out of bed.”

“That’s the plan. We should probably wake him up first,” Castiel grinned.

“Smartass.”

Smiling, Castiel sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, gently shaking Dean’s shoulder and calling his name. Dean groaned, stretched slightly, and started coughing. Castiel helped him sit up, and Dean leaned against him, his chin resting on Castiel’s shoulder.

“Ugh, that’s a fucking terrible way to wake up,” he groaned.

“I can imagine. But you are so much better. A week ago, you would have probably given yourself a panic attack with that.” He helped Dean lay back into the pillows, pushing the button to bring the bed upright.

“Hey, no mask,” Dean grinned, “I can see your whole face!”

“Well, I’ve been on antibiotics all this time, so the doctor said it was ok if I didn’t mask and glove anymore. But just me. Everyone else still has to.”

“That’s so awesome,” Dean said happily. “I missed your smile.”

Castiel smiled at him. “Ready for breakfast?” he asked, pulling Dean’s table closer.

“Ugh, no. What gross mess are they giving me this morning?” Dean poked at the covered dishes.

“Stop whining,” Lisa said, “and hold out your arm so I can get your vitals.”

Dean complied, sticking his tongue out at her. “Bossy.”

“You can’t see it because of my mask, but I’m totally sticking my tongue out at you, too,” Lisa said as she wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Dean’s arm.

Letting out a small chuckle, Dean turned back to the food, while Castiel dug around in one of the bags he’d brought.

“So it’s oatmeal and toast. I asked before I left.”

“Ugh.”

“But I brought things to make it better.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, interest in his voice.

“Yup,” Castiel smiled setting the first little jar on the table, “some of Ellen’s homemade marmalade.”

“Ooh, yummy!”

“And the 100% real maple syrup you like.”

“I think I love you.”

“Silly boy.”

Lisa pulled off the blood pressure cuff, and took Dean’s temperature. “It’s down a little more this morning. 99.6. This is very, very good, my friend,” she said, making a note on her chart. She packed up the cuff and thermometer, then turned to Dean. “So here’s the deal,” she said, watching as Castiel spread marmalade on Dean’s toast. “Eat all your breakfast, and when you’re done, I’ll come take the catheter out…”

Dean made a face.

“...and then Cas and I are going to see if we can get you out of bed and into the shower.”

His face lightened considerably, green eyes sparkling. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Awesome!” He reached for his spoon, and flipped the lid off the oatmeal, taking a bite after he drowned the whole thing in syrup.

Lisa laughed. “Ok, I’ll be back in about half and hour. Eat up, pal.”

Castiel stood and walked across the room, bringing his bag over and rooting through it. He set a stack of envelopes on Dean’s bed.

“Wha’ are those?” he asked, mouth full of food.

“Cards. Some for me, a few for you.” Castiel picked up a pink envelope. “This one’s from Gabe. I’m assuming it’s a birthday card.”

Dean’s face fell. “Is it September 24th?”

“Yes.”

“Oh crap. I forgot your birthday, Cas!”

Castiel chuckled, “you were a bit preoccupied. I think I can forgive you.”

“But...” Dean looked very distressed.

“It’s ok. I’m really not worried about it.”

“But it’s your fortieth! I wanted to make it special.”

“Dean. It’s ok. And you can make it up to me later. I’m more concerned about you getting better than me turning another year older.”

Dean didn’t look convinced, and he poked at the last little bit of oatmeal in his bowl. Castiel turned back to the bag and pulled out some clothes; sweat pants, boxers, and a tee for Dean, swim shorts for himself. He dropped those items on the bottom of Dean’s bed.

His husband was staring down at his hands, looking very sad.

“Dean. Seriously. Don’t let this upset you. It’s not a big deal. Be happy. We’re going to get you out of bed today, for the first time in ten long days, and you’re going to get a real shower and not a sponge bath. And all of these things mean you are that much closer to going home. So don’t be upset. Ok?”

Dean nodded.

“Are you done?” Dean nodded again. “Then I’m going to go get Lisa, ok?”

“Ok,” he said quietly.

When he came back with Lisa in tow, Dean looked a lot happier, a smile on his face, and he shoved his cell phone back into the bedside tray. “I’m ready!” he announced, “let’s do this!”

Lisa was pulling on her surgical gloves, pulling the curtain across as she moved closer to the bed. “First things first, we’re going to take out the cath, and disconnect your IV.”

“Ugh,” Dean said, as she pulled back his sheets.

“I’m going to change while you do that,” Castiel said, taking the shorts off the bed and heading for the bathroom. Dean was sitting up, on the edge of the bed, when he returned. “Ready, babe?”

“I think so. Just go slow.”

“You need to sit when you get in there, Dean. There’s a shower chair, and let Cas do all the work. I’m going to get the recliner set up for you, and you can stay out of bed for a while. Sound good?”

“Sounds great!”

“Ready?” Castiel asked, holding out his arm.

“As I’ll ever be,” Dean smiled nervously.

Castiel and Lisa both took an arm, and together, they slowly pulled Dean into a standing position. He wobbled, took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I can do this,” he murmured to himself, visibly working to center his balance. “Ok, let’s move,” he said after a moment. He shuffled his feet, leaning heavily on Castiel’s arm. “Don’t let me go.”

“No chance of that, I promise.”

They moved slowly across the floor, Lisa on one side, Castiel on the other, Dean moving slowly between them.

“I’m going to pretend my ass isn’t hanging out as my weak ass wobbles to the fucking bathroom,” Dean groused.

Castiel chuckled. “C’mon. There’s hot water with your name on it.”

They settled Dean on the shower chair, then Lisa made herself scarce, with explicit instructions to Dean that he needed to let Castiel do all the work. Castiel started the water, bringing it up to temp.

“Here, let’s get this stupid hospital gown off. I have sweats and boxers waiting for you.”

“Yay,” Dean said happily. “Ooh, is that my body wash and shampoo from home?”

“Of course.”

Dean spent the next several minutes humming happily under his breath while Castiel scrubbed his hair and washed him. He smoothed shaving cream over Dean’s face and carefully shaved off ten days worth of reddish brown beard. Castiel shut the water off, then wrapped Dean in a fluffy towel. Dean was blinking, his eyes already looking tired, and he leaned against Castiel, with his eyes closed.

“Don’t fall asleep. Let’s get you out there and dressed first.”

“‘k,” Dean said drowsily.

Castiel pulled him to his feet again, slowly leading him back into the other room. The recliner was covered with a sheet, pillows and a blanket. He sat Dean on the edge of the bed, toweling him off the rest of the way, and helping him into his boxers and tee. He pulled his sweats on, then put a pair of socks on him.

Dean looked down at his shirt. “My Zep shirt,” he yawned.

“Yup. C’mon.” Castiel got Dean on his feet again, helping him move the two feet to the recliner. Dean leaned back, already half asleep, and Castiel covered him with the blanket, using the lever to elevate his feet.

By the time Castiel redressed, and cleaned up, Dean was long gone, snoring slightly. And that was how he pretty much spent the day, waking up to eat lunch, watch reruns, play a little Angry Birds on his phone, cough, and in general, whine about going home.

He had to get up to use the bathroom now, and he whined about that too.

Castiel didn’t care. The whining and complaining was just more evidence that Dean was starting to feel like himself again.

And that’s all that mattered to him.

* * *

 

Dean kept checking the time on his phone. He didn’t think Cas had noticed how much more he was using it today. He kept telling him he was bored and playing games on it, and he was pretty sure Cas bought it. At least, he hoped Cas bought it.

There was no way in hell he was letting Cas’s fortieth birthday go by without doing something. So, he’d been in touch with Jo, Benny, and Sam throughout the day- in between naps, at any rate.

Jo was getting the balloons.

Benny was getting the present out of his desk.

Sam was picking up cupcakes.

They were all dropping these items off with Lisa, and when Cas went down to the cafeteria to get himself some dinner, she would bring all of them into his room.

He might still be sick as a dog and confined to a hospital room, but damned if he wasn’t going to do something for his husband’s birthday!

Like clockwork, Cas got up and left the room around six for dinner. A moment later, Lisa appeared, arms full of packages.

“Here you go, Dean. Balloons, cake, and presents.”

“Yes!” Dean sat up straight in the recliner, admiring the large bouquet of balloons. Some were shaped like tombstones, some were just plain, but all of them had some manner of ‘over the hill’ on them.

Lisa helped him set everything up, then took a quick set of vitals. “Buzz if you guys need anything,” she said, on her way out the door.

Dean waited for Cas to return, tapping his fingers anxiously on the leather folder in his lap. He yawned. He shifted and squirmed. And apparently, fell asleep.

Because when he woke up later, the sky outside his window was dark, the folder was laying on the bedside table, and Cas was sitting in his bed, flipping through channels on the television.

“Oh crap,” he mumbled.

“Hi there, sleepyhead.”

“Oh man. I slept through my surprise. Dammit!”

“I’m still plenty surprised, Dean.”

“But I wanted to light a candle and sing happy birthday and…”

“...and you’re still really sick and you fell asleep. It’s not the end of the world. I’m still surprised.” Cas slid off the bed, flipped the light on, and sat in the chair closest to the recliner. “So what’s in the folder?”

“You didn’t look?”

“It had a bow. I thought it might be my present. I wanted to wait. I haven’t had a cupcake yet either. I was waiting for you.”

Dean felt that familiar warm rush in his chest that he got everytime Cas made him feel like that- special, loved, it was something he just couldn’t put into words.

Cas handed him the folder. “Show me.”

“Ok. Open it,” Dean said, handing it back.

Opening the folder, Cas studied the contents for a moment. “This looks like plans.”

“Yup. I’m tearing down the deck, and building a screen porch with a larger deck, and I’m going to build the outdoor kitchen you’ve been wanting. Those are the plans I drew up. If you don’t like it, I could do something els…”

“I love it! It’s exactly what I wanted!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! I mean, we talked about it, and I mentioned wanting all of these things, but I didn’t think...I dunno. I just wasn’t expecting this, and it’s exactly what I want. You have the open hearth and the built in grill, a fridge…”

“...and a separate wine cooler.” Dean leaned forward, pointing things out with his finger. “There’ll be gas burners hidden under a cover, a sink, and a warming drawer. I figured it all out, and sat down and made some sketches, then worked with an architect to get it just right. And just like the house, me, Sam, Benny, and Adam will do all the work. I should have it done by spring.” He leaned back in the chair, smiling at the happy expression on Cas’s face as he looked at all the aspects of the drawing.

“Is this a hot tub in the screen porch?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, Dean, I love this! This is the best birthday present I’ve ever received.”

“Awesome. I’m glad you like it. How ‘bout a cupcake?” He reached for the container. There was a candle and a lighter sitting next to it, and it took him a minute, but he managed to get a candle in the cupcake and light it. He sang happy birthday, his voice rough and raspy, and Cas smiled when he leaned in to blow out the candle.

Later, when they were curled up together in Dean’s bed, Dean fighting very hard to stay awake, Cas told him again how happy the present made him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Dean said again, snuggling into Cas’s shoulder.

“Mmm, you know what I like better?” Cas asked him, lips pressed to Dean’s forehead. “The docs say if you keep doing this good, I might be able to take you home in three days.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Dean sighed happily. “Oh, that would be so awesome.”

“I’m glad you’re doing so much better. You scared the shit out of me, you know?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. Just, can we never do this again? Tell me when you aren’t feeling good, tell me when something is bothering you. Don’t shoulder your burdens alone, when I more than willing to help you carry them. I love you. I love being a part of your life. Don’t shut me out.”

“I won’t, I promise.” He yawned loudly and Cas chuckled.

“Go to sleep, Dean. I’ll be right here.”

“Happy Birthday, Cas,” Dean murmured, drifting off to kisses on his forehead and happy thoughts of going home.

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to ANobleCompanion for all her help and the suggestions :)


	29. Doing Something Ridiculous

_October 6, 2015_

It was amazing how much difference a week could make.

Dean had finally gotten out of the hospital on September 29th, and had expected to feel good the minute he walked through his front door.

That hadn't been the case, of course, as it took Sam and Benny practically carrying him to even get in the house. He'd been parked on the couch, and pretty much stayed there. The first two nights, he and Cas had slept in Ben's bedroom on the first floor, because he simply didn't have the strength to make it up the stairs, and Cas was still a little shaken by the whole experience, not really wanting to let Dean out of his sight.

A week later, and everything was different. While he still wasn't cleared to go back to work, he was barely coughing, and sitting on the couch and folding laundry was no longer exhausting, although he was still forbidden from going down to the basement to get the clean clothes or from carrying the baskets up to their bedroom.

He was happily rewatching  _Firefly_ , folding tees and jeans and stuff, and the windows were open, a breeze ruffling the curtains.

Dean was pretty sure he'd never take fresh air for granted ever again. Two weeks in the hospital pretty much ensured that.

Cas had gone back to work the day before, and Dean was actually enjoying being alone after three weeks of being watched like a hawk. And, since he was feeling so much better, he planned on making Cas dinner for once.

Dean finished the laundry, stacking it neatly in the basket, and shut off the TV, switching the stereo on instead.

He hummed along with Styx's  _Renegade_ , opening the fridge and pulling out pork chops, mushrooms, white wine, butter and parmesan. Next, he pulled out a heavy cast iron dutch oven, setting it on the burner and turning it on to medium heat.

Dean sang under his breath, coating the chops with salt and pepper, chopping onions, mushrooms, mincing garlic, and stripping rosemary and thyme leaves from their branches. He dropped a generous pat of butter in the pan, and a bit of olive oil, then dropped the chops in. When they were brown on both sides, he dumped the veggies and herbs in, and the entire bottle of white wine.

While the chops cooked down, he moved the laundry baskets over to the base of the stairs, staring up and contemplating whether or not he could make it up the stairs with one. Then, he pictured losing his balance and Cas finding him in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Nope. Not worth it.

Pie.

He would make pie instead.

An hour and a half later, there was a sweet potato pie in the oven, the chops were close to done, and asparagus spears had been washed, trimmed, and tossed with salt, pepper, garlic, lemon zest, and olive oil, and were in the other side of the oven.

Polenta was next, and he filled a deep pot with water, stirring the cornmeal in and bringing it to a boil.

The door opened and Cas stepped into the house, sniffing the air appreciatively. "You cooked!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah. I was feeling pretty good, so I thought I'd make dinner."

Cas came over and stood behind him, arms wrapping around Dean's waist. "I love it when you cook."

"Sometimes I forget how much I enjoy it. You're much better at it than I am."

"Bull. We just have different styles. Your's is simpler, heartier."

"Which is your way of saying not at as fancy?" Dean asked ruefully.

"Exactly. And that's a compliment."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," Cas said firmly. He hooked his chin on Dean's shoulder, fingers sliding under Dean's tee. "You are still way too skinny. I'm going to make so much pie. Gonna fatten you up."

"Oh, pie! I almost forgot!" He grabbed an oven mitt, "got one in the oven."

Cas let him go, and he opened the oven door, reaching in and pulling out the pie.

"Wow! You really did cook."

"Yup, and I folded all the laundry. I've been productive today."

"Wow!"

"And," Dean smiled, grabbing the parmesan and a grater, "sit down, because dinner is ready, and I'm serving." He shaved parmesan into the polenta, and dished some onto two plates, with some asparagus, and one chop a piece. He spooned the mushroom and onion from the chops over the polenta, then carried both plates to the already set table.

"Wow, this looks amazing. I'm impressed babe. I owe you a bubble bath later."

"Oh, hell yeah," Dean said happily.

Dinner and dessert were lovely, both of them enjoying time spent together, talking, fingers touching, and the meal was very good. It had actually turned out better than Dean had expected.

After, they cleaned up together, and Cas carried the laundry up the stairs. Working together, they put all of the clean clothes away.

"Bath time?"

"Mmhmm," Dean nodded.

Cas disappeared into the bathroom, while Dean finished changing their sheets. Evening had fallen while the chores were done, and now it was dark out, but still mild and breezy. Dean stared out the big window, looking out into the night sky, a rosy glow of sunset still on the horizon.

For the first time in several months, he felt calm, and at peace. It was a welcome feeling.

Arms wrapped around his waist. "C'mon, babe, tub's ready."

They undressed and crawled into the bubbly water together. Dean leaned back against Cas, warm and comfortable, breathing in the apple-y smell of the bubble bath.

"Have you ever turned on the jets with bubble bath?" Cas asked.

"Uh...Ben did once. Huge mess. Why?"

Cas chuckled, reached out and pushed the button. The jets rumbled to life and the bubbles instantly started growing. "Whoa, Cas, what're you doing? This is gonna make a huge mess."

"Live a little."

Dean couldn't help but laugh, as the bubbles grew even more. "Holy shit, this is nuts!" He shifted his body to the other side of the tub, looking back at Cas, who was making a beard out of the bubbles.

"What are you doing, you crazy nut?"

"Bubble beard!"

"Jeez, Cas, what are you, four?"

Cas reached out, hand full of bubbles, and sculpted a beard on Dean's chin. "Aw, look at you. Now we're both bubble beards!"

Dean laughed, and Cas kissed him, straddling his thighs in the tub.

"Mmm, you look good with a bubble beard," he murmured, leaning in to kiss him.

The bubbles were taking over, spilling out of the tub and onto the floor, but Cas was too busy kissing him for either one of them to care. Dean fumbled blindly for the jet switch and turned it off.

Cas wouldn't stop kissing him. And he wasn't complaining.

"Let's go to bed," Cas growled in his ear. "Want you, been so long…"

"Hasn't been that long," Dean protested.

"Two months."

"No…" Dean looked up at Cas.

"Weekend of Adam's wedding."

Dean did a few rapid calculations in his head. "Oh shit. Damn, I didn't realize."

"Well, you were spending so much time at work, and then you were sick…" Cas murmured into his neck, biting gently.

"Oh," Dean said quietly, face flushing with embarrassment.

"Hey," Cas said, pulling back, blue eyes intense. "None of that. It's over. We're making it better. None of that." He stood, reaching a hand down for Dean. "Now, come on. Let's go wreck those clean sheets."

Dean smiled, letting Cas pull him to his feet. They stepped out of the tub together, still wrapped around each other, kissing and touching, and completely forgetting about the bubbles that had spilled onto the floor.

Cas slipped first, and Dean desperately tried to keep him upright, then his foot slipped as well, and both of them tumbled to the floor, Dean on his back, Cas looming over him.

"Oh, fuck, ow," Dean groaned.

Neither one of them were really hurt, and both were laughing too hard to do much of anything other than lay there and stare at each other.

Cas reached down, scooping a handful of bubbles into his hand and sculpting Dean's hair with them. Dean giggled and reached for his own handfuls, reaching up and making ears with bubbles and Cas's dark hair.

"You look ridiculous," Dean said happily.

"Not looking much better there, pal." He leaned down and claimed Dean's lips again. "God, I love you. Love you so much," he whispered, hiding his face in Dean's neck. "Was so scared, Dean."

There was hot wetness against his neck, and Dean realized Cas was crying.

"Hey, Cas, it's ok. I'm ok."

"I know," Cas sniffled, "and I'll get over it. I will. I was just so fucking scared, Dean. And it's like, it didn't really hit me until now. And you're better, I shouldn't be..."

"Ssh, Cas, it's ok. It's ok." He rubbed his hands over Cas's back, while his husband sniffled into his neck.

They laid there for a while, until Dean began to shiver, and Cas pulled him off the floor, wrapping him in a towel.

"Love you, Cas," Dean said, thumbing a tear off his cheek, and kissing his forehead. "Let's go break this losing streak, ok?"

"Ok."

Cas smiled and let Dean lead him to bed.

  
  



	30. Doing Something Sweet

_October 9, 2015_

The house smelled wonderful when Castiel got home from work Friday evening. Now that Dean was feeling better, he was hungry all the damn time, his body anxious to regain his lost weight. As a result, he'd been a baking fool, making all his favorites, and trying out a few new things.

He wasn't back to work yet, but had been dropping baked goods off at Jo's, for her to take to the shop, as a thanks to his crew for keeping things running while he was out.

Judging by the smell, he'd made chocolate chip cookies, which made sense, since Castiel and Dean had been entrusted with little Mari Winchester's care for the weekend, while Sam and Jessica took a few days for themselves.

The downstairs was empty though, baking racks of cookies neatly lined up on the breakfast bar. Mari's Hello Kitty suitcase sat against the bookshelves near Ben's room, her pink Pack 'n' Play next to it. Castiel had to chuckle; Sam and Jess were wasting their time bringing it, as Mari always ended up tucked in between her loving uncles when she spent the night. She had Dean wrapped around her little finger. If he was being honest, Castiel was pretty much wrapped around her tiny finger as well.

Castiel set his things down in the office he and Dean shared and headed up the stairs. Pushing open his bedroom door, he had to smile at the sight before him. Dean and Mari were curled together, the little girl tucked into her uncle's arms, and they were covered with a lurid pink Hello Kitty blanket.

They were both sound asleep.

Pulling out his phone, he snapped a few pictures before carefully sitting on the bed beside them, Mari nestled between them, as Castiel reached over and gently touched Dean's cheek. Dean startled slightly, and one bright green eye opened.

"Hey," he murmured. "When did you get in?"

"Just a little while ago. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just trying to get little wild-woman to nap. We got all cozy and I guess I passed out, too." He stretched, careful not to disturb the toddler, and smiled at Castiel. "How many pictures did you take?"

Castiel chuckled. "Just a few."

"I'll bet. Sent them to Jess already, right?"

"Not yet." Castiel tapped on his phone. "There. Now she has them."

Mari opened her eyes, rolling over towards Castiel. She grinned, and crawled up into his arms. "Unca Cas!" she said happily.

"Well hello, sweetie! You said my name!"

"Yeah, Jess said she had a vocabulary explosion. She says cat…"

"CAT!" Mari yelled.

"...dog…"

"DOGGY!"

"...cookie…"

"COOKIE!"

"...Uncle Dean…"

"UNCA DEE!"

"...Uncle Cas…"

"UNCA CAS!"

"...Hello Kitty…"

"HEWO KIKI!"

"...and Mommy…"

"MAMA!"

"She doesn't say Daddy yet." Dean grinned.

"Bet your brother loves that."

"Yeah, he's not impressed."

Mari reached up with her tiny, chubby hands and squeezed Castiel's cheeks. "Cookie!" she yelled at him.

"I think she wants a cookie,  _Unca Cas_." Dean said as he sat up.

"I think you might be right." Castiel looked Dean over. His husband was a little pale. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Yeah, I just still get kinda tired during the day. And I probably overdid it a bit today." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "That girl's a tornado, by the way. Good thing we have doors downstairs and can close them. Although, we need to buy our own baby gate for the bottom of the stairs, because Sam forgot to bring one, and holy hell, she can get up here quick."

Mari was now bouncing up and down on the bed, and Castiel found hard to believe she'd been sound asleep not five minutes ago.

"Great." Castiel scooped the babbling little girl up into his arms. "Why don't you go back to sleep? Little Miss and I will make dinner."

Dean looked like he was going to argue, but he yawned instead. "Yeah, ok," he said sheepishly. "Guess I'm still tired, and since we're doing this whole new  _listen to my body_  thing...just give me another hour, ok?"

"Yup. I'll come get you. Burgers ok?"

"Burgers are great," Dean said happily, snuggling back into the bed. Castiel smiled, and pulled the door shut behind him. He kissed Mari on the forehead, holding the squirming girl tight as he walked down the stairs.

"Ok, little lady, Unca Dee wants burgers. How 'bout burgers and fries?"

"FWIES!" Mari yelled, quick fingers reaching for a cookie the minute Castiel set her on the counter, and shoving it in her mouth.

"Wow, there's another new word. Let's send your Mommy and Daddy a video." Castiel opened Snapchat, and aimed his phone at Mari. "Mari, are we making fries for dinner?"

"FWIES!" Mari yelled again, spitting cookie crumbs everywhere.

"Say bye bye Mommy."

"MAMA!"

"Say bye bye Daddy." Mari stared blankly at the phone and Cas chuckled. "I tried, Sam," he said apologetically. Castiel sent the Snap, then slid the phone back in his pocket. In the three seconds it took to do that, Mari had chomped down another cookie, her little face smeared with chocolate. "Ok, you, that's enough cookies."

Castiel scooped her off the counter, reaching for a paper towel. He wet the towel, and wiped off her face. "How about some milk and goldfish?" he asked, opening the fridge and finding a prefilled sippy cup of milk. Mari took it from him, accidentally banged him in the head with it, and sucked the milk down.

He pulled the high chair Dean had bought for their house out of the closet and set it up, pleased that he was able to complete the task one handed. Castiel plopped Mari into it, and buckled the straps, then put the tray on. Mari noisily banged her cup on the plastic tray, shrieking loudly about it.

Castiel ran his fingers through her soft blonde curls, then dragged the chair out into the kitchen. He peeled and diced a pear, and put it, with a handful of goldfish, on her tray.

"UNCA CAS!" she yelled happily, digging into the pear and smashing a few fish with her cup.

"Yup, that's me. Ok, sweetheart, you enjoy your snack while I make your Uncle Dean some fries and burgers." As he gathered ingredients, and started mixing and chopping, his eyes were constantly straying to the happy little girl in the high chair. She was babbling and cooing, alternating between smushing goldfish and eating them. There was a little orange goop in her hair now, and sticky pear on the floor, but she was still the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

Mari looked up, met his gaze, her brown eyes wide and sparkling, and yelled "UNCA CAS!" again.

He wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to look into those little eyes and hear  _Daddy._

* * *

Friday night, they watched old Muppet Show episodes. Dean told Cas it was for Mari's entertainment, but they were still watching long after she'd passed out cold in Cas's arms. Dean watched fondly while Cas managed to slip the baby into a fresh diaper and Hello Kitty sleeper without waking her.

Not for the first time, he wondered if maybe he bought her too much Hello Kitty shit. Oh well, wasn't like he was ever going to have his own little girl to spoil.

Dean was at peace with it now. His brothers were both having babies, and so was Cas's sister, so it wasn't like he wouldn't have little ones around to spoil.

Later that night, they set up the porta-crib at the foot of their bed, but Mari ended up tucked in the big bed between them.

Saturday, they made pancakes, and Cas drove them all to a pumpkin patch. They went on a hayride, drank warm cider, made a ridiculous scarecrow, bought entirely too many pumpkins, and went to dinner at Cas's restaurant, where pretty much his entire staff fussed over the baby. Dean managed to fill an entire 4GB memory card with pictures and videos throughout the course of the day.

He couldn't help but think about how good Cas looked with a baby in his arms.

Mari crashed hard that night.

Sunday was spent at Ellen and Bobby's in Eudora, and Cas and Ellen shared cooking duties. Dean continued his secret mission with Mari, and by the end of the day, was calling it a successful operation, a declaration that was confirmed when Sam walked through Ellen's front door, and Mari ran to him, her sweet little voice screaming "DADDY!"

Sam's face lit up, a huge grin split his face, as he scooped her up in the air, declaring her the smartest little girl in the world.

Later that night, Cas and Dean lay curled in bed, each reading a book. Cas yawned, closed his hardback, took off his glasses, and set both on his nightstand.

"Hey? Can we talk for a minute?"

"Uh, sure," Dean said, setting his book aside as well. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Cas smiled, and reached for Dean's hand, kissing the inside of his wrist before pulling him closer.

"Oh, ok," Dean grinned, "you wanna do that kind of talking. I'm on board."

"No, you goof, I actually want to talk. About...things."

"Um, ok, then. What did you want to talk about?"

Cas snuggled into Dean's shoulder, keeping their hands intertwined. "I've been thinking about some stuff, and this weekend, having Mari, it really put things into perspective for me."

Dean's heart fluttered. He took a deep breath. "Uh, what uh, what kind of things?" he asked softly.

"Children for one."

Dean's heart stuttered, then cautiously started beating again. "You mean, like you and me? You and me with kids?"

"Yes. I think I may have made that decision too abruptly."

"Um, ok," Dean said again. "But I had, uh, you know, I had made peace with your decision, Cas. I mean, I have Ben, and I get to see Mari all the time…"

"I know. But the thing is, I wasn't truthful when I said I didn't want kids." Cas sat up, so he could look at Dean, earnestness in his bright blue eyes. "When I said that, what I meant was," he sighed, "and this is going to hurt, but please let me finish before you react," he took another deep breath, "what I meant was, I didn't want kids with you."

Dean was pretty sure his heart was not going to survive this conversation.

"At that point in time, all you were doing was working. You were never home. I barely saw you. And you were hiding things, and lying to me, and all I could think was, I can't trust him enough to bring a child into this relationship."

Tears burned his eyes, and he pulled his lower lip into his mouth and bit it slightly.

That was it. Cas wanted kids, but not with him. Because he wasn't good enough.

God, he felt like he was going to be sick. And they'd been having such a good weekend, too.

"I asked you not to react until I was done, and you're visibly getting upset. I can see it. You're beating yourself up, aren't you?"

Dean shook his head as a few tears leaked out, and he turned his face from Cas.

"Hey, look at me. I'm trying to explain myself here."

Dean refused to look back. He didn't want Cas to see the tears that were now streaming down his face.

"Ok. Fine. Don't turn around. But, please, Dean, listen to me." Cas sighed again, and put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Things have changed. You're in counseling. You're being more open with me. You've promised to significantly cut back the hours. You've been telling me when you have a nightmare."

He still couldn't talk, unsure of where Cas was going with this.

"What I'm trying to say, Dean, is that if you can promise me, swear to me, that you won't let it get that bad again, and that if you can trust me to be here for you, then I'd be honored to raise a child with you."

He whipped his head back to look at Cas, who had a smile on his face. "I swear to god, Cas," he rasped, "you better not be fucking with me. I swear, I can't...please don't…"

"Dean," Cas said, reaching out for his hands and pulling him close, "don't you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't be that cruel?"

Dean nodded, sniffled, and leaned into Cas's embrace. "So you're serious about this?"

"Yes. Very serious."

"Ok. Ok."

They lay there for a while in silence, Dean occasionally sniffling into Cas's shoulder.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I am. I'm good."

Cas kissed his forehead. "Would you like to adopt or use a surrogate?"

"Fuck, you really are serious."

"I'm over forty, love. No time to waste," Cas groused.

"Well, I guess we have some things to talk about."

"Yes, I guess we do."

They reached out and shut off their lights, then snuggled in under the blankets, wrapped tightly around each other.

Cas and Dean talked until it was very late, indeed.

  
  



	31. Doing Something Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have reached the end, my friends...of this installment. There's a sequel coming within the next couple of months. If you're subscribed to the series, you'll be notified when the sequel starts posting. These two still have a hell of a lot of living left to do.
> 
> An extra special thanks to ANobleCompanion for being an incredible beta and for making me a better writer. 
> 
> Thanks for coming along on this wild ride.
> 
> See you in the sequel!
> 
> Jenn

_October 2015_

Dean woke to soft kisses trailing down his spine, and fingers brushing over his hips. The sound of the ocean crashing against the sand filtered into his slowly waking brain, warm sunlight filling the bedroom, and a sweet smelling breeze lifted the sheer white curtains.

He rolled onto his back, blinking up at the grinning man above him. "What time is it?" he asked blearily.

"Seven. We're getting up early today, remember? So we can get to Pearl Harbor before the lines get too long."

"Oh yeah. Forgot about that." Dean stretched as he sat up in the big bed in their Haleiwa house, reaching for Cas and pulling him in for a kiss. "I think we should just stay here," he murmured against Cas's lips, "and stage a repeat performance of last night." He slid his hands under Cas's thighs, pulling him forward until Cas was straddling his hips.

"That's what you said the last two days," Cas complained in between Dean's kisses, "but we can't spend the entirety of the next two weeks in the bedroom."

"Yes, we can."

"Dean," Cas whined, as Dean yanked his tee off. He leaned forward and kissed a trail down Dean's neck. Dean hooked his fingers in the waistband of Cas's boxers and pulled them down so Cas could kick them off.

"Yeah, you're making a good show of resisting here, babe, and I'm already naked," Dean chuckled.

"Shut up." Cas pushed him back, shoving him into the pillows, and reaching for the lube. "You're a spoiled brat," Cas said, flipping open the cap and coating his fingers. "I'm not letting you get out of this tomorrow. I swear." He slid a well-lubed finger into Dean, who responded with a pleased sound, arching his hips into the touch.

"You love me," he countered.

"Mmm. Yes. I do love you. But you're still a brat. A spoiled," another finger, "little," and another, "brat." Cas had three fingers in him, thrusting roughly into Dean. "Still all nice and stretched out from last night. Hmm, if we do this quick, we could still do Pearl Harbor this morning. What do you think?"

Dean's back bowed off the bed, shoving down onto Cas's fingers and whining when he pulled them away. "Ugh, anything, just don't fucking stop, dammit!"

Cas chuckled again, hooking his arms under Dean's legs and pulling him closer. "This what you want?" He teased Dean's slick entrance with the head of his cock, pushing in just enough to make him crazy.

"Goddammit, you tease," Dean groaned, wrapping his legs around Cas and pulling him in.

"Oh, demanding this morning," Cas grinned, sheathing himself all the way, coming to rest against Dean.

"I'll show you demanding!" He wrapped his legs even tighter around Cas's waist, and flipped them both, going to his knees over Cas. Dean put his hands on Cas's shoulders and shoved him flat against the bed. "Now whatta you gonna do?" he huffed.

"This," Cas shoved his hips upward, and Dean groaned.

"Oh, fuck, Cas."

"That's the idea."

He was flipped over again, and Dean found himself on his back, Cas slamming his hips into him. He reached for Dean's wrists and pinned them over his head, leaning down to suck the shell of his ear into his mouth.

"Oh fuck, Cas, fuck,  _fuck_!"

This was going to be over as quick as Cas wanted it to be, because they'd barely started and Dean was about to tumble over the edge. His hips had a mind of their own, arching upward every time Cas thrust downward, burn and buzz of pleasure rolling over him in waves.

Cas was a champion at sex. A fuckin' sex champion. He knew exactly how to touch Dean, what made his body sing, how to get him to come the fastest, or sometimes, how to make him last all night. He knew what little stretches of skin would burst into goose pimples with the lightest of kisses, and which parts of his body preferred it a little rougher.

Cas knew him well. Better than anyone.

And when he wrapped his hand around Dean, rough strokes perfectly timed with his hard thrusts, it was all over, and Dean groaned, head hanging off the edge of the bed, pushed there by Cas's enthusiastic fucking, and he painted his own stomach in hot streaks of come.

"So goddamn hot," Cas groaned, hips losing rhythm, as he came within seconds of Dean, collapsing onto Dean's body. They squirmed on the bed until Dean wasn't half hanging off anymore, and laid there for a while, letting heart rates return to normal, as Dean combed his fingers through Cas's sweat sticky hair, ignoring the cooling mess sandwiched between them.

They were definitely going to have to change the sheets now.

"We should get up," Cas groaned.

"Nope."

"Dean, you promised."

"I did no such thing."

"I believe your exact words were  _ugh, anything, just don't stop_. That's as good as a yes in my book. Beat you to the shower!" And then he was gone, and Dean was left alone with the dirty sheets and the now drying come on his chest.

"Oh no you don't!" he called, dashing off to join him.

* * *

They managed to make it to Pearl Harbor by nine, and the lines weren't too horrible. They killed time until their scheduled boat ride out to the U.S.S. Arizona, watching the short film and checking out all the exhibits.

Dean found a USMC shirt that reminded him of his dad, and Castiel got a U.S. Army shirt that reminded him of Dean, and made his husband blush when he bought it.

Castiel was so glad they'd finally been able to make their anniversary trip to Oahu. This was the opportunity they both needed, a chance to recharge and reconnect, without any outside influences or well-meaning family members.

They had a list of all the things they wanted to do on this trip, since they'd spent most of their honeymoon in the bedroom. Pearl Harbor was the first thing on Dean's list, although Castiel wanted to see it as well, and when they were done, they planned on lunch in Waikiki and then a climb up Diamond Head.

Still, even with the list of things they wanted to do, spending time together was the main priority. Sight-seeing was just a bonus.

"Look," Dean pointed out a portrait of an African-America man in navy whites, "That's Dorie Miller. That guy was a badass. He was a cook, but he stood on the deck of the West Virginia working a machine gun he didn't know anything about. Got a Navy Cross for it."

"Impressive."

"Yeah, wouldn't give up, even with the Japanese planes firing right at him. Total badass."

Castiel listened attentively as Dean gave his history lesson, reveling in his enthusiasm. He loved it when Dean showed off his brains.

He took a lot of pictures of Dean, of his serious expressions as he read memorial accounts, of his impressed expression when reading of men and women he deemed badass, and of his solemn expression when they stood in the memorial itself, green eyes tracking the names of the fallen on the marble wall.

Dean was very quiet as they drove their rental Jeep down Kamehameha Highway towards Honolulu and Waikiki.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose. "Just that was... _intense_."

"Mmm."

"Lotta people died there. It's humbling to think about. Because those are my brothers in arms, y'know?" He sighed. "That probably sounds stupid."

"No, it doesn't. You're a veteran just like they are. Your service isn't any less than theirs."

"I know."

_Since I've Been Loving You_  came on the stereo, and Dean sang along with Robert Plant, reaching across the Jeep's console to take Castiel's hand, squeezing it tight.

They'd taken the Jeep's vinyl top down, and as Dean maneuvered the SUV through downtown Honolulu traffic, the wind caught his hair, blowing it out of his usual style.

His expression was peaceful and relaxed, hand lose on the steering wheel, the other still wrapped around Castiel's.

Yes, they needed this. Time to decompress and just be with each other.

Time to fall in love a little more.

* * *

Seven days into their vacation, and they were on yet another plane, heading to Kauai to spend a few days with Cas's friend, Roy Yamaguchi, another chef and owner of Roy's. He'd invited Cas and Dean to spend a few days at his place, and explore the island.

The first night, Sam Choy joined them, and they roasted a pig in a pit. Dean stuffed himself on Kalua pork, haupia, macaroni salad, lua lua, lomi lomi, and a variety of fresh fruit. The only thing Dean wouldn't touch was the suspiciously purple poi. He noticed Cas didn't seem much interested in it either.

Sam and Roy's families joined them, as did some of Roy's neighbors, and the dinner became an impromptu luau, complete with a ukulele accompanied sing along.

Cas practically had to carry him to bed that night, after all the food, and he slept like a rock. The next morning, they had malasadas and Kona coffee for breakfast, then drove to Waimea Canyon, and visited Wailua Falls.

Cas was amused when Dean started pointed out places Elvis had used to film Blue Hawaii, and was even more amused at Dean's reaction when their guide on the Wailua River tour pointed out a piece of land that had been used for  _Raiders of the Lost Ark_.

They held hands and smiled at each other when the tour guides performed the Hawaiian wedding song in the Fern Grotto, and they even attempted to learn the hula.

Dean was so tired by the end of the day, that he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and was still exhausted when they made their plane the next morning, falling asleep before they taxied down the runway, and sleeping until Cas nudged him when they landed in Honolulu.

They literally spent the next three days lying around the house, soaking up sun in the hammock or on the beach, and spending quite a bit of time in their bedroom.

Cas had turned a deep brown, and a few freckles had appeared on his shoulders, while Dean's skin practically exploded in freckles with the increased sun exposure.

At the moment, they were laying in the hammock, curled together in a sunbeam, legs tangled together and a breeze kissing exposed skin.

Dean was very drowsy, head pillowed on Cas's shoulder while they rocked in the hammock.

"I love you," Cas breathed against his skin.

"Love you, too," he murmured back, letting himself drift off.

* * *

The Saturday before they were going to leave Hawaii, they were in the bedroom, changing the sheets for what felt like the hundredth time, when Dean's cellphone rang.

He picked it up, answering with a "Hey, Jo," listening for a moment, then sitting it on the bed, speakerphone turned on.

"Ok, you're on speaker," Dean told her, crawling onto the bed to sit beside Castiel.

" _Hey guys! So I just wanted to call, because Charlie and I have been talking…"_

" _Hey bitches!"_  Charlie yelled, and Castiel and Dean both laughed.

" _...and I talked to my mom, and the doctor, and anyway- I'll do it."_

"Do what?" Dean asked, confusion on his face.

" _You dork! I'll be your surrogate, that's what."_

Castiel's heart skipped a beat. "Really? It's that easy?"

" _Yup, just shower me with good food and get me a comfier desk chair and I'll let you assholes knock me up. You're gonna owe me big time for this, Winchesters."_

"Jo, are you...are you sure? Like really, really sure?" Dean asked, voice cracking.

" _Yeah, I'm sure."_  She paused for a second, before adding,  _"There isn't much I wouldn't do for you, Dean-o."_

Dean's eyes filled with tears, and Castiel reached for his hand across the bed, squeezing it tight. "Thank you so much, Jo. Really. Thank you so much."

" _Yeah, no prob. Don't get all mushy on me. I already made an appointment for the four of us with a decent OB/GYN and a Fertility Specialist. We're gonna make us another Winchester, boys!"_

"Yes, we are. Thanks, Jo," Dean said shakily.

" _You're welcome. See you when you get home."_

They disconnected, and Dean burrowed his face into Castiel's neck. "Holy fuck, we're gonna have a baby," he whispered.

"Yes. And with Anna giving us an egg, and your wonderful little swimmers," Dean giggled at that, "we will have a baby that's a DNA match to both of us. Maybe it'll have your pretty green eyes."

"And your sex hair."

"You want a baby to have my sex hair?"

"I like your sex hair. I just hope it doesn't get cursed with these damn freckles."

"I love your damn freckles."

They were quiet for a while, snuggling together in the big bed, arms and legs tangled, Castiel absently drawing patterns down Dean's arm.

"I'm so happy," Dean said quietly, his tone disbelieving.

"Me too."

"It's scary."

"Why?"

"Happy scares me. Too much can go wrong too quick…"

"Nope. Stop that. Happy doesn't have to come with a price, you know? Besides, after everything that's happened in the last few months, maybe we've prepaid for this chunk of happy. Stop acting like you don't deserve good things."

Dean groaned and hid his face in Castiel's shoulder. "You know me too well."

"That's my job. Now get your ass up," he smiled, swatting at Dean with a pillow. "I'm going to go lay on the beach."

His husband laughed and raced him to the sand.

* * *

Their last night in Hawaii was bittersweet. They were both ready and not ready to go home, and as they built a fire in the pit near the hammock, Dean couldn't help but wish they had a few more days.

He and Cas were both dark brown by then, and his hair had bleached out to a golden blonde. A few more freckles had appeared on Cas's skin, just a smattering across his nose, and Dean couldn't stop kissing them.

They laid in the hammock, curled together, watching the sun drop beyond the privacy fence. When the fire died, they pulled themselves out of the hammock and went for a walk along the moonlit beach, holding hands and talking about the future, the baby specifically, and stopping every now and then to steal kisses.

After walking for a while, Dean found a large piece of driftwood on the beach, big enough for them to lean against, and he sat, pulling Cas down beside him. They curled into each other, hands intertwined, and watched the waves break against the shore.

"I don't want to go home," Dean said quietly, and Cas leaned over, burying his nose in Dean's hair.

"Me neither," he admitted, pulling Dean closer. "We really need to use this house more often, instead of just letting our families use it all the time."

"Yeah. We should come out here again in like February or something. When everyone else is freezing back home."

"Agreed. Valentine's Day, you and me, and our house in Hawaii."

"Hey, that rhymed."

"That's because I'm awesome."

"You are awesome," Dean agreed, tightening his grip on Cas's hand.

Time passed, and Dean must've drifted off at some point, waking up when Cas gently tugged on his arm. He let Cas lead him back to the house, and up the stairs. He let Cas strip his clothes away and lay him out on the clean sheets.

Cas kissed him softly, then moved slowly down his body, trailing gentle kisses down his torso, down his legs.

He lifted Dean's foot, kissing the sole, working his way up to the toes. He trailed kisses over the top of Dean's foot, then back up the ankle, the calf, all the way up to the jut of Dean's hip, kissing over his belly, and back down the other leg.

"Cas, what're you doin'?" Dean asked softly, eyes tracking Cas's dark head as it moved back down his leg.

Cas didn't answer, just hummed and continued trailing kisses over every inch of Dean's leg, until he was back at his hips again.

"Cas?"

He kissed a slow trail up Dean's torso, sucking little marks into his skin, wet trails cooling Dean's heated skin. Fingers traced along his ribs, and Dean felt a drop of hot liquid roll down his chest. "Cas? Cas, are you ok?"

He nodded, but didn't look up, and Dean felt another drop of water. He sat up, concerned, reached for Cas and pulled him closer. Cas finally looked up at him, blue eyes wide and full of tears.

"Hey. What's going on? What's wrong?"

Cas shook his head, moving away from Dean, pulling his knees up to his chest. He looked so small, and it made Dean ache as he reached for him again.

"Hey, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

The other man swiped angrily at his eyes, shaking his head again. "It's stupid."

"Yeah, I doubt that. What's wrong?" he asked again.

Cas looked up, a pained expression on his face. "I can still...I can still see your ribs." He sniffled. "And I just...you have no idea what those first three days were like. And I can't help but look at you differently now, and you're...you're  _fragile_." He wiped another tear from his face. "Those first three days, Dean, I thought you were going to die. Sam and I pretty much camped ourselves at your bedside. You'd wake up for minutes every six hours or so, just to have a panic attack because you couldn't breathe, and I'd hold your hand, but the damn gloves and the mask, I couldn't really touch you, and all I could think is, he's going to die, and I'm going to be alone."

Dean scooted closer to him, wrapping his arms around Cas's shaking shoulders. "I'm still here," he said softly, pressing his lips to Cas's temple.

"I know. It's stupid. I should be over this, Dean." He shifted in Dean's hold, until he had his head tucked under his chin. "And the thing is- it was my fault. I was the one that got you sick."

"One: it's not your fault. Not really. Germs are germs. I could have just as easily gotten it from a public bathroom. Two: I don't blame you. At all. Three: I'm still here. I'm still here, Cas, and I'm not going anywhere. Ok?"

Cas nodded against Dean, arms wrapping around his waist. "I want to believe that, Dean, I do."

"Then believe it. We can't see the future, and we have to take things one day at a time. Know who told me that?"

"Me?"

"You."

Dean held Cas close for a long time, listening to the waves crashing on the beach outside the window, moonlight painting stripes on the floor. Cas was warm and pliant in his arms, and there was nowhere else he would have rather been at that moment.

"Dean?"

"Mmm?"

Cas turned his head up, deep blue twinkling in the moonlight, and Dean kissed him, pouring everything he felt for Castiel into that one kiss. When they pulled apart, Cas's cheeks were flushed.

"Dean."

"Yes?"

"Make love to me."

Dean smiled, and pulled Cas onto his back on the bed.

"I thought you'd never ask."

  
  



End file.
